Selene's Embrace
by ClockworkScales
Summary: The USS-Selene is a Starfleet vessel with an all-android crew. With Lore as Captain and Data as First Officer, they struggle to overcome their current adversaries: the Betazoid resistance, who seem to have a personal vendetta against the androids. Meanwhile, Lore tries to deal with the prospect that Data might transfer to the Enterprise. Data/Lore. Sequel to Mirror Image.
1. The Betazoid

_A/N: Although this is a sequel to the fanfiction Mirror Image, consensus was the characterisation in that story was poor. To read this story and understand it you do **not** need to have read Mirror Image. I am writing this assuming you haven't read it. _

_I hope to develop this story in a way that reveals the current state of affairs, and continues the plot from where Mirror Image left of. Hopefully I can redeem the characters (and myself) by writing them more logically and thoroughly this time - and focusing less on "telling" and more on "showing" events/thoughts. Thank you for reading if you're new and if you read Mirror Image, I'd appreciate knowing how you feel this story is developing in comparison and how the characters were written in comparison to Mirror Image._

* * *

><p>Data was playing the violin in his quarters when the USS-Selene went into a red alert. Data's positronic network immediately translated the transmission he received via the remote communication chip in his positronic brain. He abandoned his instrument on his quarter's table.<p>

'_It's those damn Betazoid again!'_

He strode as quickly as he could to the bridge. Data entered the turbolift and pressed the topmost silver button. In the reflection of the metal buttons, his red Starfleet uniform flashed back at him. As the humming turbolift came to a stop, Data left it and boarded the bridge. He approached his Captain, the android who could only be distinguished by appearance from himself by his persistent facial tick and the anger that created crows feet in the corners of his eyes. Data's brother, Lore, was scowling at the bridge visual display as Data approached his right side and eyed the screen. Data received Lore's transmission swiftly.

'They're firing on us but our shields still haven't recovered from the previous attack,' Lore's voice echoed in Data's positronic net. The telepathic signal was interpreted by Data's neural net as if he were speaking out loud but Lore's lips did not move, homage to the algorithm's ability to distinguish the signal from noise. 'We need to create a diversion. I want you to beam onto their ship and sabotage their systems. Veneer will go with you.'

Data did not directly face Lore, but he expressed his uncertainty via the specialized chip Lore had installed. To a stranger it would look as if the two were statues.

'Does transport have a good lock on us?' Data transmitted, his eyes examining the screen.

On the display in the middle of the asteroid belt scattered along the diagonal was a large purple ship which had experienced its fair share of wear and tear. The rich purple paint had long faded and had been scraped viciously away from the sides where photon lasers had been hastily installed.

Data was about to repeat his message when he suddenly felt his body being transported onto the enemy ship. For a few split seconds his senses interpreted pure white noise, the transporter frequencies required to break down, record, and reconfigure molecular structure at work.

When he reappeared, he pulled out his phaser gun and spun around, absorbing his surroundings in half a second. Data was in the Betazoid ship's engineering bay. The blue warp coil hummed loudly beside him, guarded by metal spokes. Along the walls were stationed three Betazoid engineers in lilac uniforms who turned at the sound of an intruder. Two of them were female. Their deep black eyes looked Data up and down. They pointed their phaser guns at him.

Data's positronic network picked up a transmission.

'I am above you. Stay still and I'll stun them,' the voice echoed. There was an apathetic drawl to the voice that Data recognized as coming from Veneer, one of the older androids among their crew.

Data held his phaser steady and pointed it in turn at the three engineers, not yet firing. But the tallest of the three, a woman engineer screamed and fired her phaser. At the exact same instant, the other two engineers fired in unison and Data's face was hit by three simultaneous purple beams. He sensed his bioplast sheeting being melted away, three clean searing cuts melting his frontal cortex and piercing his motor cortical columns. As it did so, he staggered, his circuits disrupted, and fell to the ground with a thump. The purple phaser beams stopped firing to recharge. As Data examined the damage through his internal diagnostics, he felt the the materials making up his left eyeball melting. His left visual field became hazy and then disappeared from awareness.

His right eye darted up at the metal gridwork two floors up, searching for Veneer. He saw black boots shuffle and bang against the floor above, and then disappear. With a loud thud, the android landed on the engineering bay floor. Green light filled Data's vision as the tall android shot the three Betazoids with his phaser, stunning them instantly. The Betazoids fell to the floor with a thump.

Veneer rushed to Data's side and hissed under his breath.

'_Shit!_'

Veneer could see the extent of the damage the purple phaser beams had caused in detail. Data's left eyeball was fused to his head with a sickly grey colour, the pupil and iris unrecognisable. Melted copper wires seeped onto his forehead in three steady lines.

Data's right eyeball fell upon Veneer's face. In the split second Veneer was by his side he was able to process the android's milky-gold skin and yellow eyes, and the long brown mane that fell past his shoulders. Veneer had not been hit by the purple phaser beams.

Once Veneer disappeared, several explosions could be heard close by. Data smelled smoke and heard the engineering alarm bells ring. Footsteps could be felt through the floor, and Data estimated that 10 security officers were coming their way.

Sensing this predicament, Veneer rushed to Data's side and grabbed his arm. In seconds they were back on board the USS-Selene's bridge. The smell of smoke was gone, and thundering sound of footsteps and alarm bells halted. Instead, there were the harsh ceiling lights. Data's remaining eye closed in relief.

Data was lying on the floor before his chair. Veneer's legs stretched as he got to his feet. Data saw Lore approach the two of them out of the corner of his vision, his eyes staring upon Veneer with a snarl. Data couldn't see it as the two androids suddenly disappeared from view but he recognized the sound of metal on metal. Lore must have punched Veneer across the head.

'Is that how you protect your First Officer, _Lieutenant Commander_?' Lore screamed at him.

There was another thud.

Data's mouth opened to speak, not able to see the confrontation on the bridge. 'Captain, my injuries will heal promptly. The Betazoid had changed their phaser beam frequency to a configuration 2 hertz higher than I had registered so there should only be a short delay.'

There was a period of silence as Lore ceased his attack on Veneer and leaned by Data to examine his wounds. His eyes narrowed as he parted Data's hair and threaded his fingers through the melted sheets of bioplast skin and the melded portions of positronic net that looked like a large crevasse. Lore's eyes observed the dark green remnants of positronic net where black wires wriggled like maggots and folded on top of one another. The wires threaded into sheets, smaller maggot-like wires appearing and criss-crossing damaged materials.

'I estimate your communication chip will be back online in about five minutes,' Lore said, getting to his feet. 'Brent, how are our shields doing?'

'They'll be back online in two minutes, Captain,' Brent said from the operations position on the bridge. Brent's yellow eyes returned to the his console display. 'Make that one minute.'

'Good, I want you to fire on them as soon as they're back online,' Lore commanded. 'Create as many holes as possible in the hull and make sure their life support is disabled. I want an away team on there as soon as possible and I want the place ransacked. War has its fair share of casualties, does it not?'

Data waited on the floor while his positronic network regrew. Data could feel the wires thread across his face, stitching the bioplast sheeting back together like expert surgeons. After a two minute silence, the USS-Selene's frontal, lateral, and rear shields were restored. The photon torpedos from the USS-Selene fired upon the Betazoid ship in quick succession, followed by lasers burning holes in the same positions. This attack continued for several minutes, and then Data finally felt something click in his neural net. He sent a message to his Captain remotely.

'My communication chip has been restored, sir,' Data informed him. 'My motor cortex has also regained optimal functionality.'

'Good,' Lore's voice said, and the message was broadcast to all androids on the bridge. 'Data, put life support on the middle decks in case we find any Betazoid worthy of taking hostage. I want you with me on the away team. Brent and Tsar will also accompany us. Veneer will not.'

The direction of the malice in Lore's transmission was obvious.

Data got to his feet and stood by his Captain's side. The materials in his left eye were still being rethreaded but he was able to catch Veneer's sideways glare from the operations position as he examined Data's forehead.

The crevasse in the centre of Data's forehead was wriggling with wires. In a few seconds, it was completely stitched back together, the final bioplast smoothing being completed.

On the display, the Betazoid ship's lights were shutting down across the lateral bows of the ship.

'Life support has dropped in one third of the ship,' Brent's communication was translated by Data and Lore's neural net. 'Life signs are disappearing across the ship. If you want a hostage we should leave now, their neural tissue won't survive for longer than a few minutes.'

'Very well,' Lore broadcast through the chips. 'Transport us to the furthest portion of the ship that lost life support.'

In a flash of white and blue light, the four crew members disappeared from the bridge of the USS-Selene. They reappeared in a semi-lit storage room the size of a small hotel room. A small hole to the outside of the ship could be seen in the ceiling, sucking all oxygen out of the surroundings. The hole had charred edges and remnants of torpedo cases embedded in the metal.

Tall metal boxes filled with foam-protected syringes and coloured vials lined the walls. The floor was sleek and metallic with a few figures slumped across it in regular intervals. The Captain approached one of them and knocked them on the side, rolling them over with his black boot.

The blue, puffy, and gaping lips and pale face on the Betazoid medical officer indicated that they had suffocated to death. The tips of their fingertips were cyan. The whites of their eyes were bloodshot.

Brent approached the vials along the walls and conducted a visual scan on them, referencing them to his internal databanks. The large scar across his cheek twitched as he frowned.

'Nothing useful to us,' he transmitted to the away team. 'Just tumour treatments. Nothing the Federation hasn't seen before.'

Lore grunted and leaned to scavenge through the Betazoid's clothes. He found an ID card and examined it quickly before leaving it on the Betazoid's breast, apparently uninterested. Data walked ahead of his Captain, examining the walls carefully. Finally, he identified a black monitor against the wall behind one of the storage containers. With lightning dexterity he pushed the container out of the way and brought the monitor to life. The android cracked the password within seconds. He downloaded the blueprints of the ship as well as a list of personnel into his neural net as the information blinked on screen at an incredible speed. As he reviewed the personnel, he identified a few individuals of interest.

'There is a Miss Bluxoy who is the Captain of this vessel,' Data began, broadcasting the information to his colleagues remotely. 'She is part of the Betazoid resistance and has committed acts of treason against the peaceful Betazed faction. It sounds like she might know who started all this.'

'Who else?' Lore demanded through the chip.

'There is also a Mr Selur,' Data continued, his mouth not moving. 'He is in charge of regulating the weapons on this ship, as a part of operations. It appears both these individuals are on the bridge - which has not yet lost life support.'

'We don't need to remove their life support just yet,' Lore broadcast to the away team. 'Let's pay our Betazoid antagonists a visit.'


	2. Hostages

Captain Bluxoy was a busty Betazoid female with a small chin and wide cheekbones. Her hair was pulled back in a tight bun and her dark purple jumpsuit gleamed from the overhead lights. Her black eyes were narrowed at the virtual display at the front of the narrow triangular bridge. The red overhead light cast a bright glow over the crew as it completed its 360 degree rotation.

'Have the civilians finished evacuating?' she asked.

'The remaining one hundred and twenty eight have, yes,' came the coarse telepathic transmission from the tactical officer, Crax. 'Recommend we move quickly to remaining escape pods three, five, and six. Our sensors are detecting an alien presence heading towards the bridge.'

'The androids,' Bluxoy breathed. She reached under her black-leather chair and pulled out a phaser-rifle, slinging it over her back. 'Computer, activate self-destruct sequence. Code Fifty-Two-Alpha. Remove warning and take no further instructions from anybody except myself.' She turned to her bridge officers. 'All remaining bridge personnel, evacuate immediately.'

The two minute countdown ticked backwards in neon yellow letters on her console display. Captain Bluxoy turned towards the right rear turbolift, communicating telepathically with her crew. 'Come quickly. We won't give the androids the satisfaction of capturing us.'

Operations officer Selur followed Bluxoy and entered the turbolift, stepping carefully over the deceased body of the other operations officer whose head wound was pouring blood over his console, his legs stretched out against the floor. In the low lighting he tripped over Bluxoy's First Officer who was lying on the floor with her eyes rolled into the back of her head. Scrambling to his feet, Selur joined his Captain and tactical officer Crax in the turbolift.

The three remaining bridge crew stood huddled together as the turbolift doors closed and the device rumbled, bringing them to the lower decks.

* * *

><p>The away team from the USS-Selene arrived on the bridge of the Betazoid ship. The four Soong-androids split up to examine the deceased and the consoles. Data stood by the left turbolift, his fingers racing across the wall-bound console.<p>

'Computer,' Data said out loud. 'Requesting current location of Captain Bluxoy.'

'Commands or information requests are no longer accepted from anybody other than the Captain of this vessel,' the computer droned back.

Data's circuits whirred as it accessed the voice banks of Miss Bluxoy and repeated the question in her voice. Bluxoy had a relatively deep voice for a female Betazoid.

'Requesting current location of Captain Bluxoy.'

He had learned long ago that recording the voices of every officer on a ship where records were available was a necessity in anticipation of events like this.

'Captain Bluxoy is currently located in turbolift two.' The computer said in a booming voice.

The four androids glanced at one another. Tsar approached the turbolift two and dug his fingers in between the crevasse. He forced the mechanical doors open, the machinery hissing and creaking in protest. Holding the doors open with his back and foot, Tsar snapped wires on the inside of the door with his hands, sparks arcing in the air. Then, he jumped down the turbolift shaft, his yellow Starfleet uniform disappearing from view. The turbolift doors remained open, white and yellow lights hissing from the interior broken control board. A loud thud was heard as Tsar hit the bottom.

Data, Brent, and Lore strode to the mouth of turbolift two's shaft and looked down. Tsar was standing on top of the cylindrical turbolift and was ripping the metal sheeting off the top. It made an extremely loud screeching noise, like an animal having its limbs broken and ripped from the bone sockets. Purple beams of light could be seen emitting from the turbolift and bouncing off the lifeless steel beams making up the shaft walls. The yells of Captain Bluxoy could be heard echoing up from below. The purple beams narrowly missed Tsar's head and scorched the walls of the turbolift shaft. The turbolift was in an emergency stop position. The only way out was up. Tsar jumped through the makeshift hole in the ceiling into the middle of the Betazoid trio.

In the turbolift, Bluxoy's eyes bulged in alarm at the sight of Tsar's face now inches from hers and held up her rifle, the point aiming between the android's eyes. Tsar's yellow eyes were staring back at her, his pale lips a narrow line. The android twisted the Betazoid's wrist and simultaneously bent the tip of the rifle downwards, dragging it around to face the opposite direction, but this didn't stop Betazoid Captain from firing. Tsar's yellow uniform charred as a few rifle blasts pierced his abdomen and thigh. Meanwhile, phaser blasts seared into the back of Tsar's head. Selur and Crax's weapons were being pressed into the android's skull and their fingers were on the triggers. The sulphurous smell of burning hair and the sizzling sound of melting bioplast reached Tsar's awareness, and he ducked to avoid the rest of the blast. Selur and Crax stopped firing least they hit their Captain.

The Betazoid female's eyes followed Tsar's movements with horror.

'_Why are you monsters all the same?!_'

Tsar twisted his hand holding Bluxoy's wrist. With a sickening crack, it broke in Tsar's grip and the Captain screamed in pain, dropping the rifle to the floor.

While Bluxoy was disabled, Tsar turned and smacked Selur and Crax in the side of the head with his fist, knocking them out cold. Their bodies fell into a heap onto the floor. Then, he turned wrapped his fingers around Bluxoy's neck and pinched the jugular veins, forcing her against the pristine turbolift doors. Her shrieks of pain turned into desperate gasps for oxygen.

The fingers on Bluxoy's spare hand clawed at Tsar's face but instead of feeling the satisfying tear of flesh under her fingertips, her fingernails were ripped clean from her nailbeds against the hard bioplast sheeting. Bluxoy's deep black eyes rolled into the back of her head, blood seeping out of the nailbeds on her right hand, the nails attached only by the remaining connective tissue.

'If I'm going to die you're coming with me,' she croaked weakly, her eyelids drooping over her large black irises.

'Not so fast,' Tsar hissed, baring his teeth. His shoulder-length brown hair fell in front of his face unevenly, melted pieces of flesh peeling off his scalp and revealing the blinking lights of positronic net. When the woman was silent and motionless, Tsar released the pressure on her neck and let her body drop to the floor.

Tsar pushed his hand against his scalp, attempting to force the dangling pieces of scalp to remain attached to his skeletal array. He frowned as he felt the deep indentations in the back of his head, a mild tickling sensation as his fingertips came in contact with the wire regrowth.

At the top of the elevator shaft, Brent's transmission reached his Captain in a hurry.

'Captain, the ship is about to self-destruct.'

'Disable it, Commander Data,' Lore demanded, the communication fast.

Data's eyes darted back and forth quickly for several split seconds as his fingers raced across the monitor console next to the turbolift. He shook his head. 'It cannot be disabled. We must abandon the ship. Recommend we take the three Betazoid with us.'

'Agreed,' Lore replied through the chip. 'Get that, Tsar?'

There was no response from the android in the elevator shaft. Realizing that Tsar's communication chip must have been disabled, Brent yelled down the shaft as he remotely contacted the USS-Selene and ordered an immediate away team retrieval.

'We're leaving, Commander! _Hold on to the three hostages!_'

A few seconds later, the Betazoid ship exploded.

* * *

><p>The four androids returned to their ship as the Betazoid vessel exploded before their eyes on the display in a flash of red and orange light. The crew braced for impact as the debris hit the USS-Selene's deflector shields and ricocheted off. Tsar was kneeling on the ground with his arms wrapped around three humanoid creatures. He placed them on the floor once the blast and the subsequent shockwave had subsided. Captain Bluxoy's body was slumped over the top of Selur and Crax's. Tsar touched the centre of his chest where a hole was slowly regenerating.<p>

Captain Lore approached Tsar and checked the pulse of each of the Betazoid before examining the damage on Tsar more closely. The entire back of the android's head was melted. Burnt hairs clung in patches to the remaining bioplast sheeting, but large portions were hanging off like the partially shedded skin of a reptile. A precise burn had been made through the middle of the positronic net approximately where the communicator chip was located. Lore examined the wound carefully. His voice was terse, restrained.

'Get back to your seat, Lieutenant Commander Tsar. You will feel better in a few minutes.'

Tsar returned to his position at tactical and gripped the console tightly.

Captain Lore sat in his chair examining the debris of the Betazoid ship drift into the void.

'I want Lars to transport our guests to the brig and then interview them. We need to collect as much information as possible from them. Brent, I want you to get into contact with Starfleet and inform them that this is the third Betazoid ship in twenty-four hours to attack us and that it too had a self-destruct lock. Veneer, I want you to use the tractor beam and take on board as much as the destroyed ship as possible. Data, help him and examine the remains for anything that might be useful. Tsar, when your neural net has healed go to sick bay check our drone supplies. We may need to restock.' Lore got to his feet. 'I will be in my quarters. Do not disturb me unless you have something to report. I will accept Priority One transmissions only.'

* * *

><p>Data kept an eye on Lieutenant Commander Veneer as he used the tractor beam to drag pieces of debris into the ship's cargo bay from the bridge. The bridge crew worked in silence, but the transmission link between Data and Veneer was not.<p>

'I apologize, Commander, for failing to assist you in a timely manner on the Betazoid ship.'

'No permanent damage was made against my neural net so the consequences are not as severe,' Data responded remotely. 'However, this is the third time in a series of away missions where you have failed to act as a Lieutenant Commander on the USS-Selene normally would. What is causing the delay?'

Veneer's fingers jabbed his console with vigorousness.

'I have found myself feeling distracted, Commander,' Veneer admitted, before adding. 'Personal problems.'

'What kind of personal problems?' Upon reaching silence, Data continued. 'Normally I would not pry, but this has been interfering with the quality of your work and thus must be addressed. If you prefer, the Captain might –'

'No, I don't want the Captain to know about this,' Veneer responded. His console blinked, indicating that one tonne of Betazoid ship debris had been deposited in cargo bay one. Veneer oriented the blue beam toward the nearby asteroid field. 'The truth is I have been feeling distracted by the Betazoid women. I find them attractive.' He paused. 'I am aware that it is an unreasonable thing for me to feel given they are our enemy, but I find it difficult to control.'

Data noticed Veneer lower his head. Data turned around, walked back towards his chair and sat in it. He observed Veneer from afar, his fingers drumming his armrest. As the First Officer gazed upon his Lieutenant Commander in his yellow Starfleet uniform he was reminded of himself fifteen years ago when he was on board the USS-Enterprise. Fifteen years ago, Data had begun to long for the emotional and physical intimacy of a partner. Unlike Veneer, however, his journey into a romantic relationship once he had acquired the emotion chip had not begun by longing for humanoid or Betazoid females… He was only aware of one other android on the ship who had had such an experience.

'I recommend you speak to Lars, in that case,' Data said to Veneer through his communication chip. 'He and his wife have been together for many years – ten years in fact. I think you would find his advice more appropriate than my own.'

'Why would your advice not be appropriate, Commander?' Veneer sent Data the query. 'With all due respect, sir, even if you are not in a relationship at the moment, if I assume all Soong-androids have the same taste, then –'

'They do not,' Data interrupted, the drumming on the armrest ceasing. 'That is not an appropriate assumption to make, Lieutenant Commander. In addition to that, however, is that I feel it would be inappropriate to share advice and by proxy the intimate details of my past relationships with the members of my crew.' The First Officer glanced at his console. The cargo bay was now filled with one point five tonnes of foreign material.

As Data focused on the console display, he tried to suppress the anxiety that had surfaced to his neural net in the form of blind panic upon hearing Veneer's query. It was a fear he had not experienced for many years. In the heightening restlessness of his neural net, an image of Captain Lore entered his mind. In his mind's eye, the Captain was sitting at his post on the empty bridge of the Selene and Data was kneeling beside him. As Lore ran a fingernail firmly down the center of Data's neck, goosebumps appeared on the First Officer's skin and the hairs on his neck became raised.

Data's head jerked reflexively, his hand jolting to the back of his head and clasping the skin. He forced the image to the back of his mind.

The First Officer immediately got to his feet and entered turbolift one, pressing the wall button repeatedly until the doors closed and started its downward descent. He sent Veneer a hurried parting message. 'In short, please ask Lars for advice, Lieutenant Commander. I cannot help you. I must sort through this debris as per the Captain's orders.'


	3. Regrets

Cargo bay one was an expansive room with a ceiling two storeys high. Usually deserted, it was now filled with large pieces of scrap metal, glass and asteroid chunks compressed and arranged in tall three meter square columns. There was enough space between them for a person to pass through. Given the height of the debris piles the ceiling lights were shielded and Data had to carry a torch to light his way through the cuboid labyrinth. Every few minutes a new column appeared at the end of the cargo bay, the debris being delivered through the force field with expert control by Lieutenant Commander Veneer.

Data started at the back right corner of the room. The tricorder shook in his hand as he attempted to scan the columns in a systematic manner, its spectrometer and x-ray recording pin-point samples at regular intervals.

After a few minutes of this process, his hand steadied and he was able to focus on the task before him. The first column, he concluded, was mostly scrap metal but could be salvaged by the replicator. As Data came to the second column he paused, his eyes catching sight of organic matter in between silver beams. His fingers reached in between the metal and yanked out an arm seared away from its body above the elbow.

He stood holding the disembodied arm at arm's length for several minutes. The skin was pale and with periodic burns along the arm, including many seared arm hairs. Data's eyes examined the slender fingers and the large knuckles, deciding that the specimen was from a male humanoid. His gaze landed on a thin gold band wrapped around the male's finger.

He immediately dropped the arm. It made a dull slapping noise as it hit the floor.

Data turned off his tricorder and leaned against the debris column, closing his eyes and rubbing the sides of his nose-bridge with his finger and thumb. He glanced at the lone arm and slowly placed it back into the debris pile after scanning it with the tricorder.

Data thought about the ring. It should not have come as a surprise to him that crew members got married on Betazoid Starships. After all, on the Enterprise it had been common place. On the USS-Selene, however, it had never occurred – despite a latent desire to witness or even participate in such a ritual.

As the First Officer scanned the third column, his mind drifted. Perhaps he had become out of touch with humans… His original goal on the Enterprise was to become more human and that goal had followed him to the USS-Selene. Certainly his adventures helped him learn about other cultures, but humanity? They did not encounter humans often except when they docked at space stations or encountered fellow ships. Data gulped as his memories drifted back to the tumultuous five years before he started working on the USS-Selene.

The tricorder beeped noisily, disrupting his train of thought.

It turned out the third column was also composed of salvageable material. Data moved to the fourth column lining the wall and scanned it, watching the x-ray and spectrometer beep at regular intervals with analysis reports.

As Data wondered if he had used poor judgement when deciding to join the Selene ten years ago, his limbs suddenly felt heavy.

His mind wandered back ten years, navigating through memories since faded. Data remembered the day he had first joined the Starfleet ship Selene. After saying goodbye to his friends and colleagues on board the USS Enterprise - saying goodbye to good friends like Geordi LaForce, William Riker, Deanna Troi, Wesley Crusher, Beverly Crusher, Worf and Captain Picard - Data had been beamed onto the Selene. He remembered appearing by Lore's side on the bridge at the First Officer's station and gazing upon his superior with admiration.

Data's insides knotted at the memory. Those early days had been a time filled with hopes and dreams. Data's first years upon the USS-Selene had been relatively carefree. The future had seemed bright with promise.

The tricorder beeped again and Data moved to the next three meter square column of Betazoid ship and asteroid debris.

_Things had certainly changed since he had left the Enterprise…_

* * *

><p>The three Betazoid had remained quiet in their brig cells from the moment they had regained consciousness. Bluxoy's hands were wrapped in now-bloodied bandages and she lay on the brig bedding staring at the ceiling. Selur was curled up in a ball, his back facing the brig's exterior, presumably sleeping in his cell. Crax was propped on the bed lying on his back in such a way that he could stamp his shoes on the side wall and pretend he was marching. The shoes left black streaks against the wall.<p>

Outside the cells, a Soong-android was pacing back and forth and staring adamantly at the floor. He had been engaged in that behaviour for the past several hours. After five hours of the android's pacing, Crax rolled off the bed and stretched, his lower eyelid twitching at the sight of the android's legs swinging back and forth and the sound of boots hitting the floor repeatedly.

'You are Lars Soong, are you not?' Crax queried, crossing his arms across his chest.

Lars did not look at Crax as he passed. His facial expression remained blank as he paced back and forth, back and forth, his footfalls unnaturally timed in a regular rhythm.

'I will only answer your question if you answer one of mine,' Lars said simply.

The next few minutes passed in silence. From what Lars could gather, the three captives were probably in silent conversation with one another. Like the androids on the Selene, the Betazoids had telepathic prowess and were likely using it to their advantage to plot a strategy or escape.

Lars never stopped pacing. At the back of his mind, he imagined it might mimic an ancient torture technique, chinese water torture, where a tap would be left to drip for hours on end and would eventually drive those who heard it insane. However, to the Federation, he was merely pacing back and forth with zero malicious intent. He just happened to be very good at pacing. It was not a crime.

'I heard you slept with your father - did you enjoy it?' Crax asked suddenly, his tone that of mock innocence. The Betazoid man approached the red force field but did not touch it. His breath on the shield made a crackling noise and the shield became concentrated in that section. He pressed the creases out of his purple jumpsuit and exhaled loudly, his black eyes tracking Lars with increasingly narrowed brows.

Lars closed his eyes, but otherwise kept pacing in front of the three cells. It was a Starfleet Officer's duty to have the mental control necessary to not react to provocations.

'Calm yourself, Crax,' Selur called, still lying on his brig cell bed. 'They cannot be provoked so easily. Meditate on the humming of the ship instead and imagine you are on the Espere.'

Lars wondered if they were trying to exude an air of discomfort deliberately to let his guard down. With no evidence to support that hypothesis or any alternative, he continued to pace back and forth for several hours.

* * *

><p>In the Captain's quarters, Lore was lying stretched out on a leather couch, resting an empty glass that had been filled with rum-flavoured polywater on his chest. His eyes were closed and his chest rose and fell slowly in a regular rhythm. His eyes squinted open and he examined his quarters with a weary stare.<p>

The Captain's quarters were austere by human standards, save for a few paintings lining the walls. One of the paintings by the entrance to his quarters depicted a red nebula with a Borg cube ship near it. Given the size of the nebula the depiction of the Borg ship was small in comparison, but the characteristic cube commanded fear and respect from the viewer. The painting had been a gift from Data ten years ago, something he had painted during his time off duty on the Enterprise five years before that. The Borg cube had been Lore's addition, a creative attempt at sabotage, but it had suited the painting quite nicely. It had turned it from an image depicting the wonderous nature of space to the forboding nature of the unknown.

At the memories of his brief time on the Enterprise ten years ago, Lore got to his feet.

With a slouching gait he approached the replicator on the wall and placed the glass underneath it. In a split second the glass was full of an amber liquid and Lore carried it back to the couch. With one quick head motion he upturned the drink and swallowed it entirely in one gulp.

Next to the couch was his workstation. The black monitor on it blinked awake, as if in anticipation of his activity.

Lore heard Lieutenant Commander Brent's voice in his head, a Priority One message.

'Starfleet Admiral William Riker wishes to speak with you, Captain,' Brent informed Lore. 'I have patched him through to your console. It is a secure channel.'

Lore made a double take. William Riker? It was a name he had not heard for many years. The last he heard of William Riker the man was the First Officer on board the USS-Enterprise, not a Starfleet Admiral. Although First Officer Data had been keen to keep up with the Enterprise and its crew indirectly over the years, Lore had not shared the interest. How could he when he had his own ship to run and improve?

Lore scowled and threw his glass towards the monitor boasting the Starfleet logo. With a loud crash, the glass exploded into a million tiny fragments before disappearing into thin air. The computer's replicator system reabsorbed the materials back into its storage banks, no lasting damage obtained on the monitor.

Lore approached the monitor at his workstation and swivelled it around to face him in the chair, pressing a few buttons on the flattened keyboard in front of it.

William Riker's face appeared on the screen. He was sitting at a desk with his fingers intwined in front of him. He sported a trimmed beard and his red Starfleet uniform. Compared to when Lore had seen Riker last, there were a few extra wrinkles on his forehead and a few streaks of grey in his hair.

'Captain Lore, I am contacting you in regards to your Lieutenant Commander's transmission to the Federation several hours ago,' Riker began, straight to business. 'We are aware of the Betazoid attacks on your vessel, but I regret to inform you that the attacks are not isolated to your ship. There have been reports of an increasing number of terrorist attacks on Omicron Theta by Betazoid factions over the last few months. The Federation considered this matter of top importance and of a confidential nature, but we feel it appropriate to inform you about it now. To be specific, the Betazoid terrorist group have been targetting the transference labs built across the planet.'

'Why was I not informed sooner?' Captain Lore demanded, his knuckles gaining a pasty white colour as he clenched his fist. 'If it weren't for me, Omicron Theta would not be what it is today - _transference_ would probably not exist!'

Transference was a medical procedure developed by Dr Maddox at the height of his cybernetics career on Omicron Theta ten years ago.

In essence, the procedure involved creating an android body that mimicked the original creature or humanoid in every possible way and subsequently transfering their memories to the new android body. It had been a revolutionary achievement in cybernetics.

'You are correct,' Riker admitted. 'I understand you share a portion of the profits from the transference procedure with Dr Maddox. It must be very lucrative for you.' Riker took a deep breath and sighed. 'Unfortunately this may be the _exact_ reason they are targetting you, Captain. And that is precisely why we wanted to keep things quiet. If information leaked about your current location, there may be more attacks on you than there are at the moment. It might draw undue attention to your ship, and not just from disagreeable Betazoid factions.'

Lore frowned. Given the Betazoid were a peaceful race by nature, it was unclear why they would perceive the transference procedure a threat to their way of being, especially ten years after its creation. According to Data, the Betazoid he had encountered on the Enterprise had often expressed relief or at worse discomfort at being in the presence of an android. This was apparently due to their inability to read them, telepathically and empathically - a blessing to some, an insecurity for others.

Lore's fingers drummed his workstation. 'Well, evidently the Betazoid have no issue finding my ship. Do you know if they are in contact with the Romulans? The Ferengi? Those Ferengi would not be against gaining control of the technology if they could, if that's what the Betazoid are trying to gain access to,' The Captain leaned back in his chair and ran a hand over his face. 'Should I be expecting Klingon vessels after the Selene as well? Perhaps they find the idea of transference dishonourable and will take any available chance to destroy it.' Lore pursed his lips.

'To be perfectly honest with you, Captain, we do not know if the Betazoid factions are in contact with other races,' Admiral Riker replied. 'But it is a risk we must consider, and it is a risk to the Selene that cannot be ignored. For example, Dr Maddox is currently under tight security watch by the Federation. We believe that it might be wise for you and the crew of the USS-Selene to consider doing the same. Then the Federation can focus their damage control efforts in one location-'

'Absolutely not,' Lore said. 'I think it would be more constructive for Starfleet to send backup to the Selene to help us repell future attacks and lend us the personnel required to question our Betazoid hostages. You see, according to my Lieutenant Commander Lars, our hostages refuse to speak to him thus far. I hear Betazoid are a stubborn lot and I find it hard to believe they will cooperate with us, even if we threaten them. We need Betazoid alllied with the Federation to help - we need to get into their _heads_ if we are to get anywhere. And if Starfleet will refuse to let me lobotomise them to remove their telepathic abilities, then I see no other option. I do not believe putting me and my crew in secure confinement is the best option available. We need to be active in this investigation, not hiding in some distant corner of Omicron Theta like cowards,' Lore paused and crossed his legs under his workstation. 'I would be willing to offer myself as the head of such an investigation.'

'If other ships go to assist you, it will become obvious where you are located. It may draw unnecessary fire towards you,' Riker repeated, raising his voice. 'With all due respect, Captain, I think you fail to recognize your vulnerability in this situation. I do not know what the Betazoid want with you - to kill you or to hold you hostage for ransom, but either way, I do not think putting other Starfleet vessels in the line of fire to protect your own _vanity_ is the best course of action.'

Upon hearing the word 'vulnerability', Lore's mind jumped back to the Selene's recent encounter with the Betazoid. His mind filled with images of Data and Tsar's melted neural nets and the physical mutilation they had endured. The sight of melted bioplast sheets and positronic nets had shaken Lore, as much as he tried to hide it from his crew. Lore exhaled. As much as he liked to imagine they were invincible, the Borg drones that rebuilt their neural nets had limitations in speed and scope of protection - with enough damage to their neural nets the drones would cease to function, and they had come dangerously close to this reality in recent times. Lore remembered examining the damage to his First Officer's neural net and melted eyeball, and remembered feeling great fear at the sight of it - a deep primal fear that made his nerves burn. He had never encountered phasers that could pierce android flesh so readily.

'I will talk to my crew about this, in that case,' Captain Lore said slowly. 'I may yet reconsider your proposal, Admiral Riker.'

Admiral Riker shook his head. 'No, Captain. I want you to return to Omicron Theta immediately. Any further delays may jeopadise your safety, especially if you have hostages on board. Consider that they may be in communication with other Betazoid factions as we speak, guiding them to your position.' When Lore's facial tic appeared in response to the Admiral's message, Riker continued. 'That's an order, Captain.'

The transmission ended.


	4. Loneliness

Lore broadcast his superior's orders to the rest of the Selene crew via his chip from his quarters.

'I have just been in contact with Admiral William Riker,' Lore transmitted. He lay back down on the couch and closed his eyes. 'We have been given orders to return to Omicron Theta immediately to be under the watchful eye of the Federation. If we travel at maximum warp speed from our current position when we will arrive?'

His communication chip picked up static for several seconds, and then his pattern algorithms jumped into gear as Brent's reply came swiftly.

'At warp 9.6 we should arrive at Omicron Theta in three days, six hours, and fifty two minutes,' Brent explained. 'We are quite far away, Captain. We could not go any faster without risking a warp core breach.'

'I do not think Admiral Riker would appreciate us putting our ship into any unnecessary risky situations. Warp 9.6 will be sufficient.' Lore told Brent through his communication chip, his lip twitching as he filled up a new glass with rum-flavoured polywater. 'Do it now.'

'At once, Captain.'

As Lore drank the harsh-tasting liquid in the glass, Lore thought on Omicron Theta. The last time they had visited was eight months ago to resupply their ship. Had the Betazoid resistance learned of his ship while they were there? Could it be possible the Federation had a Betazoid spy amongst its midst?

Lore kicked off his boots and rest his feet on the arm rest, his arms behind his head. He wondered if Admiral Riker was stationed at Omicron Theta, or if he was merely acting remotely. Was the Enterprise there to assist with the Federation's so-called damage control on Omicron Theta?

Lore swallowed the final dregs of his drink, the back of his throat burning. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve and carefully placed the glass on the floor beside the couch.

These were questions he could not yet answer, but he was fully capable of speculation. He contemplated the possibility that the Enterprise was waiting for the Selene at Omicron Theta.

The Selene had not been in contact with the Enterprise for seven years. How would Data react?

His curiosity getting the better of him, Lore accessed his communication chip.

'First Officer, what are you doing at the present moment?'

Lore listened to static for a few moments before receiving a response.

'I am conducting the final sweep of the debris Lieutenant Commander Veneer navigated into the carbo bays. I will endeavour to have the report to you as soon as possible once I am finished with my investigation, but the majority of it is salvageable material.'

'Very good,' the Captain replied. The Captain's vision suddenly blurred as the ratio of polywater to biofluids in his circulatory system was quickly being overwhelmed. Lore breathed in deeply, focusing his energy on a single point in his positronic net – Data's communication signal. 'Come to my quarters when you are done with the final debris sweep, Commander. I would like to request a private meeting.'

Lore heard static for several long seconds before he heard Data's tentative reply. 'May I enquire as to the nature of the meeting? I would like to be adequately prepared.'

'The exact nature of the meeting is confidential,' Lore responded. Lore held his arm to his mouth as he hiccupped into it, grateful that he was able to maintain a slur-free voice over the communicator. 'It is a business meeting.'

'Then I will arrive as soon as I am finished, sir,' Data replied.

Lore inhaled deeply as the communication link dropped. He drifted into a deep slumber.

* * *

><p>Lieutenant Commander Veneer walked into the brig and found Lars pacing back and forth in front of the cells. Veneer waited by the door so the hostages could not tell he was there. Lars, however, looked up from his pacing exercise before staring at the floor again.<p>

'Do you ever brush your hair, Lieutenant? If you're not careful you'll turn into a Klingon,' Lars transmitted the message to Veneer through his neural net.

'I was hoping we might be able to talk with our mouths. I don't want any potential for eavesdroppers,' Veneer transmitted to Lars, waving his hands over the automatic door sensors so they wouldn't close on him, though they tried. 'Are you able to leave your post for a few minutes? I need to ask your advice on a private matter. We could talk in the next room.'

Lars paced down the opposite end of the brig, but when he paced back towards the doorway he did not turn around. As he walked towards Veneer he made shooing motions with his hands. The two androids walked down the hall.

'What is this about? You sound too formal – like Commander Data - it's not like you,' Lars asked, walking alongside Veneer as they strode down the hallway. They arrived in the second brig and entered, the sliding doors hissing shut behind them.

Veneer pulled on his Starfleet uniform. He stood in front of the first brig cell. His voice was monotonous. It contrasted sharply with Lars's expressive tone.

'Commander Data was the one who told me to come to you,' Veneer admitted, crossing his arms and raising a thick brow Lars. 'He said you might be able to offer advice on being attracted to humanoid females – namely, how to control it.'

Lars raised his eyebrows. After a few long seconds, the android laughed out loud. It was as if he had just witnessed some greatly amusing slapstick. He circled Veneer, grinning and chortling to himself. 'Well, this is unexpected! What was Commander Data's reason for not giving you advice? He is not without relationship experience, after all.'

Lars eyeballed Veneer and waggled his eyebrows in a suggestive manner.

Veneer's lips stretched into a frown and the android raised his hands, shrugging. 'He seemed to suggest his tastes were different from my own but was unwilling to discuss it. The Commander thought it would be inappropriate for him to share the intimate moments of his romantic life with his crew. It sounded reasonable enough to me.'

Lars's wide smile faded. 'I see.' Lars stood in front of Veneer. 'Well, our _dear_ Commander is out of touch with _my_ relationship status. I do have a wife, certainly, but she is on Omicron Theta at the moment working in the labs. I haven't seen her for _eight_ months. Because of the Selene's special missions, we are often apart for years at a time. She gets very lonely,' Lars leaned against the wall to the brig, an amused smile crossing his face, his gaze darkening. 'To be honest, I have often suspected adultery on her part.'

Veneer paused. 'Lieutenant Commander?'

Lars shook his head, smoothing his short brown hair against his scalp in a manner reminiscent of Data. 'Ahhhh, but I am getting carried away, I apologize. Is this attraction of yours related to the recent away missions, by any chance?'

'Unfortunately,' Veneer growled, his gold eyes flashing. 'I find myself feeling attracted to the Betazoid females on the enemy ships we've encountered and for _no_ logical reason! It is highly distracting,' Veneer scowled at Lars's smile and the knowing look Lars was giving him. 'It is _not_ a laughing matter, Lieutenant. I nearly got Commander Data _killed_.'

Lars's eyes softened, his bemused grin fading. 'You know, Veneer, loneliness does not always express itself based on logic. That much I can tell you. If this is true, then logic must be forced into it.' Veneer nodded slowly. Lars continued. 'To control your feelings, you must channel them into _useful_ outlets. What do you do in your spare time other than spend time on the Holodeck? Do you have any hobbies? Creative hobbies?'

Veneer shook his head slowly. 'I have no interest in being creative. I fail to see how it helps me fulfil my duties on the Selene.'

'Well…!' Lars said, his voice trailing off. He approached Veneer and patted him on the back. 'A creative outlet might help you control your feelings by giving them a useful outlet. Heh - why else do you think Commander Data spends so much time in his quarters playing the violin or painting? Why do you think he is such a successful officer?'

Veneer gulped. 'Uh… Are you insinuating something about Commander Data?'

'Anyway, that's my advice to you,' Lars crooned, patting the top of Veneer's head before heading towards the door. 'Oh, if only _my wife_ engaged in creative pursuits! Maybe she would be _happier_! _Hahaha!' _Lars smirked._ '_Well, good luck, Veneer! You'll need it.'

Lars left the brig to return to the hostages, laughing his head off. His madness followed him down the hall, leaving Veneer with a twisted feeling in his stomach. Had the long hours in the brig guarding the hostages made him go insane? For a split second, he felt he had witnessed something important about Lars but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Was Lars paranoid?

There was a deep bitterness in Lars that Veneer did not understand. Why did he laugh at the prospect of his wife cheating on him while he was away? Was it expected? Was madness the consequence on continued loneliness? If so, why had nobody else on the Selene lost themselves like Lars evidently had?

At any rate, Veneer couldn't shake the sensation that Lars knew something about Commander Data he did not… something important. The thought of Commander Data having a dark past was unsettling. He had always seemed so kind and peaecful.

Veneer patted his stubborn hair down, and returned to the bridge.


	5. Meeting

Data stood outside Lore's quarters, taking a deep breath. Gulping, he pressed the button on the side of the door. Data could hear the muffled ring through the door, but heard no confirmation that the Captain had heard. The android waited a few moments before pressing the doorbell again. He met silence.

Data rapped his knuckles on the back of the door.

'Captain? It is your First Officer, Commander Data. I am here regarding the business meeting you arranged,' the Soong-android said loudly. Why was Lore not responding? Data was about to leave when he heard Lore's voice from within.

'Data!'

The sliding doors opened in response to the voice-activation. Data stepped into Lore's quarters, finding his Captain lying on the couch. Lore ran a hand over his face and groaned into it, slowly moving around and getting to his feet. Data's eyes glanced down at Lore's bare feet, a frown crossing his face. Then he noticed the glass on the floor.

'_Ow_!'

Glass shattered under Lore's bare foot. Lore scowled and hopped back onto the couch, pulling his foot into his lap. He sighed, pulling out the shards one by one. As he yanked out each piece, he winced. Data gazed upon the Captain silently as he ripped out the silicon-based material and dropped the remnants onto the floor beside the couch.

'Sorry about that,' Lore sniffed, his mouth twitching into a half smile. 'To be honest with you, brother, I'm quite drunk. I was having such a nice rest before you interrupted me.'

Data was still. 'I thought you said this was going to be a business meeting, Captain.' Data's eyes glanced at Lore's bare feet. 'And in addition to not being prepared, you are also not adequately dressed. And –'

'Data,' Lore began, dropping his foot to the floor. 'This _is_ a business meeting.'

Data's mouth closed. 'I apologize, Captain.'

Lore exhaled heavily and kicked the broken glass cup into his workstation. It clinked as it hit the desk's leg. Lore cleared his throat.

'I requested your presence here because I wanted to talk to you about Omicron Theta,' Lore explained. 'See, there's a good chance the Enterprise will be there.' Lore examined Data's face, but it showed no change in expression. 'I worry that your loyalties to the Selene are fading, Commander. I wanted to remind you why you are here.'

'I am aware of the Selene's unique position within Starfleet,' Data acknowledged, straightening his back. 'And I recognize that my transfer to the Selene helped build its reputation and become a well-respected vessel in the Federation. In addition, if it were not for my presence on the Selene and the skills I brought here from my time on board the Enterprise, I do not think it would be regarded as the Enterprise's sister ship by Federation officers today.'

'You are correct, but I am not referring to your loyalties in terms of role and contribution to the ship,' the Captain continued. 'I am referring to your _emotional_ loyalties to this ship, Commander. To this ship, and to me.'

Data's body stiffened. 'Is that why you were drinking, Captain? Are you worried I will leave the Selene?' Lore was silent. He did not make eye contact with Data. Data continued to speak. 'If you want to discuss emotional loyalties, sir, then I cannot alleviate your concerns. We have had this discussion before,' Data explained. 'I respect your judgement as a Captain and trust you in that role, but… I do not feel that I can trust you in regards to personal matters. I regret to tell you this, but I do not see that changing in future.'

Lore held a hand across his chest and clenched the front of his uniform, twisting it until the red fabric gained white veins. He closed his eyes, his mouth twitching. Lore clenched and unclenched his fist, stretching his fingers as if he were doing a strength exercise.

'Do you still believe in the dream we shared, Commander? Do you remember the world we dreamed of creating when you first joined the Selene?' Captain Lore asked. His eyes scanned his hand, his voice softening. 'Do you remember what the Selene's mission is?'

'I must confess I have not reviewed it for some time,' Data said, very straightfoward and concise. 'But I do remember it.'

Lore's eyes fell upon Data's face. 'Then perhaps you need to review it again. Let me read you an excerpt from the Homeric Hymm 'To Selene', as translated by Evelyn-White centuries ago. It may inspire you more than the dry, bureaucratic garbage Starfleet calls a mission statement.'

'That is not necessary, Captain. I can –'

But Lore spoke over the top of Data. 'From her immortal head a radiance is shown from heaven and embraces earth; and great is the beauty that ariseth from her shining light.' Lore stood and faced the window, holding his arms before him as if reciting Shakespeare.

Every second word the android struggled to hold back a slur. Lore was clearly deeply intoxicated. Data did not realize just how drunk he was until he decided to recite the excerpt. Lore had managed to maintain composure well until then, but now he was loud and theatrical – something that did not occur unless he was within the throes of emotion. Data's jaw clenched as Lore continued, drawling.

'The air, unlit before, glows with the light of her golden crown, and her rays beam clear, whensoever bright Selene having bathed her lovely body in the waters of Ocean, and donned her far-gleaming, shining team, drives on her long-maned horses at full speed, at eventime in the mid-month,' Lore hiccupped. 'Then her great orbit is full and then her beams shine brightest as she increases. So she is a sure token and a sign to mortal men.' Lore finished softly. 'Hail, white-armed goddess, bright Selene, mild, bright-tressed queen!'

Data stared at his Captain's back, uncertain whether to speak or not. After several moments, Data decided to break the silence.

'The prose evokes an impression of gracefulness,' Data commented politely.

'Indeed,' Lore turned to face Data and raised his hands. 'Selene, the goddess of the moon. The moon, the _uninhabitable_ planet. The moon, the _lifeless_ rock that encircles the earth. The beautiful embrace of _death_… That is her legacy – that is _our_ ship's legacy,' Lore's mouth twitched. 'Do you understand how this relates to your loyalty to the Selene, Data? Our vessel Selene was given the noble task of investigating planets humans would be unable to, the class D or H planets. Planets humans could not inhabit, but androids could.' Lore's voice dropped to something no louder than a whisper. 'Those dead planets are our future, Data. The future of android colonisation... Who else could live there?' Lore's voice steadied. 'Do you still believe in this dream? Are your loyalties fading, brother?'

Data frowned. He opened his mouth, and then closed it again. He narrowed his brows, his eyes moving from side to side. Memories kept flooding his positronic net whenever Lore mentioned the word 'brother', and yet he was still trying to reconcile what his Captain was saying – the content. It would not do to get distracted.

Data's mind turned to a haze as he remembered sitting with Lore on Omicron Theta in the old colony base. At that time, the colony base had been turned into a museum for Dr Noonian Soong's work. There, Data and Lore had discussed the future of android culture, discussing how androids and humans were not really so different from one another – they had discussed how humans and androids both shared a desire to grow and better oneself. It was a positive memory and yet other memories stirred within Data's positronic network, fouling it. The memories of an android did not fade with age, after all. They remained as vivid as when they were first experienced. Data got the impression of needles in his skin, and pushed the memory away. He refused to let the negative memories come to mind. If he did, they would surely surly his impression of his Captain even further, and he wanted to keep things professional between them.

'What do you expect me to say, Captain?' Data asked, in the silence. 'I share in Dr Noonian Soong's dream. I believe what the Selene is doing for Soong-androids is good, and I think it is worthwhile and will help preserve our position in the Federation.'

'So you _do_ share this dream,' Lore muttered. 'You share my dream. And yet, you call it "Dr Noonian Soong's dream" and not "our dream", not "our future".' Lore's eyebrows narrowed and his lips formed a snarl. Data recognised the warning signs on Lore's face. He could not explain it as an entirely conscious reaction, but the anger that was crossing his Captain's face made alarm bells ring in his positronic network. His hand instinctively jolted to his phaser at his belt, but he did not draw it.

'Brother, I can respect your privacy and accept that you may not trust me personally…' Lore said, grumbling. 'But denying our relationship altogether? For how much longer will you keep your thoughts and feelings from me? _When will you call me your brother, again, Data!?'_

The android's arms were shaking. Lore picked up the broken glass fragments off the floor by his workstation. Data took a step towards the door, his yellow eyes darting at the glass and his pupils shrinking.

'Well?!' Lore demanded, loudly. 'Answer my question. When will you stop calling me your Captain and start calling me brother again?' He let the glass roll in his palm, fragments clinking against one another. 'Would Dr Soong want you to act this way, Data? Would _our_ father be proud of the way you're acting towards me?! I deserve more than this!'

Data took another step back. He had to diffuse Lore's anger somehow.

'Captain, please calm down. You have had too much to drink. You are not thinking clearly.'

'I'll be the one to decide when I've had too much to drink, _Commander_!' Lore yelled. 'And you still haven't answered my question!'

Suddenly, Lore lobbed the broken glass at Data's face. Data ducked, the fragments hitting the wall behind him, hitting the painting he had given to Lore. The painting fell to the floor.

'You gave that to me as a present to your _dear_ brother once we became shipmates on the Selene,' Lore shouted, his cheek twitching. Lore bared his teeth and approached Data, but the First Officer stepped backwards through the sliding doors and into the hall. His back hit the corridor wall. It was deserted, but Data felt as it the world was closing in on him – as if it had become extremely crowded and was threatening to smother him. Lore picked up the painting in his hands, examining the red nebula and Borg ship depicted on it. 'If you will not acknowledge that I am your brother, then this has no place in my quarters!'

Lore tossed the painting out the door. The frame split as it hit the wall.

'You are dismissed, Commander,' Lore snapped, his breath heavy. Data could smell the polywater on his breath, inches away from him now.

Data kneeled to picked up the painting, but Lore kicked him in the stomach before he could touch them. Data clutched his abdomen and glanced up at his Captain with defiant eyes. Lore backhanded him across the cheek.

'Leave the painting alone! If you are not my brother then it is not yours to take!'

Lore picked up the painting and held it between his hands. His hands quivered as he bent the painting between his fingers, applying more and more pressure. His face was splitting into a maniacal grin. Data got to his feet and ran down the hall.

_Crack!_


	6. Bar Nine

Brent sat down at the bar on deck nine, colloquially termed Bar Nine. The title was homage to the crew's lack of imagination and motivation for naming conventions. It was the recreational area on the Selene and served the same purpose as Ten Forward on the USS-Enterprise. There were several key differences between the two rooms, however. Brent had studied and examined every blueprint of every Starfleet vessel available so he was very familiar with the nuances. The first major difference was that the Selene had been built to withstand icy cold temperatures like much of the rest of the ship. Since the crew was entirely android it meant the normal temperature requirements of a Starfleet vessel did not need to be adhered to, so they could save a lot of electricity by reducing the use of the heating systems.

To prevent any food or drink consumed from freezing, small force fields invisible to the human eye were generated around any item created by the replicator with the optimal temperature conditions inside. Producing localised temperature fields in this manner went a long way for conserving the ship's energy since entire rooms did not need heating. In addition, given the androids had no innate need for food, those systems were not in use often. But Brent was feeling nostalgic, he thought he'd make use of the facilities.

He ordered a tall chocolate milkshake from the replicator that was arranged as glossy black plates across the bar table. The beverage appeared in a smooth metal cup and frothy milk foamed over the top. Brent sat and examined the stars shooting past outside the ship. Brent glanced around, noting that Bar Nine was completely deserted. On a good day he might have seen Veneer there playing chess with Tsar, or perhaps even Commander Data, but today it was empty. He sipped at his drink.

'Brent!' came a voice from his right.

The android jolted in alarm, his fingers denting the sides of the cup with a crunch. The light brown liquid cascaded over the sides of the metal cup and covered his fingers. Brent sighed and turned towards the source of the noise.

'Lars?'

'Mm, sorry,' Lars grunted. The android sat next to Brent and pressed a few buttons on the replicator console. The replicator produced a roast chicken at his request and he tore it apart with his hands, munching on the steaming white flesh.

'You haven't been at Bar Nine in several months,' Brent commented, trying to be amicable. When he received silence, Brent returned to his beverage, trying to ignore the loud munching and smacking noises of Lars's barbaric eating habits. He knew Lars considered eating with his hands a way to get in touch with humanity's primal roots, but Brent never understood the appeal. It was not pleasing to watch.

Brent suddenly noticed the dark bags under Lars's eyes. They were new. To Soong-androids, things like under eye circles could only be a cosmetic choice.

'Why do you bother with those under eye circles?' Brent commented, pressing a few buttons on the replicator. The excess milk from his hand vanished. 'You don't feel tired, do you?'

'Nonsense, of course I don't feel tired. The purpose of the eye circles is to give the impression to our hostages that I am tired and maybe make them more comfortable - needless to say, it's not working,' Lars grumbled, sucking the flesh of a piece of bone and tossing it on the replicator plates. 'But I would ask the same about that scar on your face. That look went out of fashion several centuries ago, you know. If you're trying to distinguish yourself, why not give yourself long luscious hair like Veneer or Tsar except braid it – or perhaps give yourself a pair of semi-circular glasses to satisfy your inner – or outer - bookworm?'

Brent scowled. 'The scar is to remember what happened on Skareth-2. Think of it like a tattoo – a manipulation of one's appearance to denote an event or symbol of significance.'

'I suppose I am familiar with those rituals,' Lars said, specs of chicken flying from his mouth. 'Remind me what happened on Skareth-2. That was that class H planet, wasn't it? I was on the ship for that investigation.'

Brent gulped down the milkshake. He watched the foam swirl around in the cup, the aroma of processed and sweetened cacao plant syrup reaching his nostrils, but Lars's presence was souring his enjoyment of it. 'Yes. There were humans on a remote part of the planet. I was part of the away team responsible for recovering them safely – that they were even alive was a wonder.'

'Uh, hold on, this sounds familiar,' Lars said. He knocked a few chicken bones together. 'They were in an escape pod, their oxygen reserves were running out…' Lars clicked his fingers together and pointed at Brent's face. 'The woman sliced your face open with a knife!'

'There was more to it than that,' Brent protested. But Lars grapped Brent's face with greasy hands, turning his head and examining the long scar that extended from his right sideburn to his lip with an open mouth. Brent glared at Lars as he did this. 'Now I remember why you never come to Bar Nine anymore.' He complained.

Lars let go of Brent's face and stretched a piece of chicken skin in his hands, letting oil drip onto the replicator plates. Then he placed the stretched piece of skin on the replicator plate and sliced down the skin with his fingernail. 'Now I remember what happened. She came on board and you kept her company while we brought her back to Omicron Theta. When she –'

'Enough,' Brent said. 'Stop talking so non-chalantly about something so serious –'

'When she saw the place was overrun with androids, she killed herself,' Lars said, grinning. Lars stared at Brent's face. His eyes were staring into his cup as if it were a visual portal to old memories. 'You're in love with a dead woman.'

'She might not be dead forever,' Brent snapped. 'Omicron Theta preserved her brain.'

Lars cackled loudly, droplets of oil flying through the air. 'You want her to undergo transference? The damnable ethics of that aside, you're kidding yourself if you think bringing her back to life as an android is going to help her. For all you know she'll try kill herself as an android, too. Do you really think she'll love you? She hated androids! She only put up with you because you gave her food and water. You've lost touch, Brent!'

Brent gulped down the final portion of his milkshake.

'It's none of your business,' Brent said stiffly. He pressed a few buttons on the replicator. The metal cup vanished into the air. 'Anyway, at least I'm not in love with a -' he paused, considering whether or not to stoop to Lars's level of tactlessness. He decided battles were best played on an even playing field. 'At least I'm not in love with a whore! Why don't you back to the Holodeck and play with cheating Vulcan trash?'

Lars pushed the remaining chicken forward, grease smearing the bar. The replicator buzzed and the food was gone in a few seconds. Lars wiped his hands on the sides of his uniform in calculated silence. Brent thought Lars might swing around and hit him across the face, but the android was silent. He glared at the replicator plates, his jaw visibly clenching and unclenching.

Brent was not sorry for what he had said. Out of the entire Selene crew Lars was by far the most hostile. Brent couldn't believe it when Data had told him once at Bar Nine that Lars had once been calm and kind. Years of a failed marriage must have broken his spirit. In a way, Brent considered, he even felt sorry for him. They were not so different from one another. Holding onto women they probably couldn't keep, holding onto their pathetic little dreams…

Brent got to his feet and head towards the door. As he glanced back towards the bar, he saw Lars put his head in his arms, resting his forehead on the bar.

* * *

><p>On Omicron Theta the most prominent and the first official building ever built during the re-terraforming was the Soong Institute of Cybernetics. Its architecture was unique in that it was shaped like the crystalline entity. The architectural decision to shape the institute like the crystalline entity was ironic in one sense, homage to Lore's contribution as a science experiment in another. On Omicron Theta, Admiral William Riker was in Dr Maddox's laboratory, located at the very center of the branching structure, five levels under the ground.<p>

The laboratory was pristine and had walls covered in micro chips - replicas of android implants that had been developed at the institute. Displaying them on the wall was in the spirit of hanging up qualifications or certificates of achievement. Dr Maddox worked bent over a brightly lit desk, Riker watching from a few feet away.

'Dr Maddox, Starfleet command would like permission to check all the ships entering and exiting the cargo bays in the Soong Institute of Technology. It could be one of the ways the terrorists are entering the building.'

Dr Maddox's hands were moving faster than humanly possible, using tweezers to place and remove resisters to a small micro chip. He did not pause as he answered the Admiral's statement. His voice was very calm.

'There are already security personnel in place to fulfil that duty, I think it would be better use your resources elsewhere,' Dr Maddox replied.

'With all due respect, sir, you are not safe here,' Riker said firmly. 'I don't care if you're an android now. I don't care if you feel you're somehow above basic security protocol, but we need to _double check_. The Selene has already nearly lost several of their crew due to the altered phaser-beams the Betazoid are carrying. Their weapons could easily hurt you. It is Starfleet's duty - _my_ duty - to keep you safe. I ask you to reconsider.'

'I agree that we should be focusing our efforts on finding the source of the attacks,' Dr Maddox said smoothly. 'But I think the best way to go about this is to check the transference register. There may be somebody on that list that might be able to help with your investigation. After all, the Betazoid resistance - as they so affectionately call themselves - seem to take issue with the procedure.'

'We have already requested access to the register,' Riker informed Dr Maddox. 'However, given its confidential nature it needs to get approval from several different levels before I finally get a copy. I was told I could not receive it any earlier than three days.'

'Mm, well,' Dr Maddox said. His fingers stopped altering the chip. He picked up the device and stared at it, holding a light between the crevasses and examining the wires. 'In that case feel welcome to position security personnel at the cargo bays. As long as my work remains uninterrupted I hope you feel free to conduct as many security checks as you want.' Dr Maddox breathed, a wide smile crossing his face. He turned to show Riker the chip. 'This micro-processor will improve the processing speed of logical arguments by 3.2% and reduce the energy required for such operations by 1.5%.'

Riker grinned. 'Do you really need to go any faster?'

'Of course,' Dr Maddox said, not recognising the joke. 'The faster the android, the faster the progress.' Dr Maddox turned back towards his bench. 'And the safer the Selene crew will be.'

Riker nodded slowly and then waved a hand towards the door. 'Well, I must return to the USS Titan to oversee the implementation of our security units on Omicron Theta. I'll keep you informed regarding any progress.'

* * *

><p><em>AN: This probably doesn't need to be said but in case people have been living under a rock (unlikely), calling one of the Selene crew Brent is a nod to Brent Spiner, the actor who plays Data in the TNG. The similarities end there, unless I decide to give Brent a dislike of shorts or hand shaking.  
><em>


	7. Mercy

Captain Lore woke on his black leather couch at 0300 hours, the removal of polywater from his system producing mechanical filter stress in his lungs and throat. Lore screwed up his eyes, his head heavy and aching. Lore's fingers rubbed his eyelids, the android running an internal diagnostic as he did so. There was no lasting damage.

Lore's eyes caught sight of glass on the floor by the entrance. His memory from the evening returned to him, his neural net making associations between the glass, his right foot, his right hand, and Data's face. Lore's lips stretched into a frown. No, Data had not been in contact with the glass, Lore had merely thrown it at him.

Lore peered outside the nearby window. Stars were spatially warped by his visual system, large motion streaks following the blinking lights as they travelled at maximum warp. As he gazed upon the stars, he examined his memory banks carefully. When he focused on his hand and foot, he remembered slapping and kicking Data for trying to retrieve a painting outside his quarters.

Lore approached the entrance to his quarters and ordered the replicator to remove the glass on the floor. It vanished. Then Lore entered the hallway and saw the torn fragments of a painting- the painting of the red nebula and the Borg ship. Lore kneeled and picked up the fragments one by one, holding them next to each other like a series of puzzle pieces. He thought of Data as he did so. If Data had tried to take the painting with him, did that mean that Data was not completely willing to let go of their relationship? Maybe Data missed Lore… Lore smirked, shaking his head. Unlikely. If Data did miss him, he might put more effort into maintaining a personal relationship.

Lore clenched a remnant of painting in his hand. Lore carried the broken painting back into his quarters and tossed the remains against a side wall. The side with the Borg cube stared at him. It reminded him of the cause of Data's distrust with him. It had all started with the communication chip, after all. The chip had been developed by Lore based on his knowledge of Borg anatomy and physiology, knowledge of their sub vocal communication systems.

Lore's hand threaded towards his scalp and pressed against his parietal lobe. Lore pulled a plate of bioplast sheeting down and ran his fingers against the neural net underneath, feeling the various dents and ridges. The communication chip itself was something of a misnomer – it was originally a program that ran on the emotion chip that made use of the android's remote sensors. However, in all androids on the Selene there was now a extra chip which improved the range and accuracy of the program. The upgraded communication chip was attached to the emotion chip located in a deep medial portion of his neural net in between the two hemispheres. The emotion chip and the additional communication chip were tightly integrated- they had to be. If they weren't, it would take longer for emotional content to be processed and slow the whole process down – defeating the whole purpose of the system. For the sake of brevity, communication chip was used to refer to the emotion chip upgrade as well as the program already running as part of the emotion chip.

As Lore tapped his neural net, he considered removing the chip. If Data did not trust Lore because of the chip, perhaps he would begin to trust him again if he removed his communication chip – or at the very least, deactivated that portion of the program. After all, it was the communication chip that had gotten Lore into this mess. It had given him the ability to communicate remotely with his crew, a great advantage, and it allowed memories and feelings to be shared or implanted between androids. It was the latter portion that was tricky. If you used it too often or too much, you would be accused of brainwashing, use it too less, and perhaps the crew would regard you as too discrete, paranoid.

Lore's fingers found the ridge that marked the beginning of the hemisphere division. Lore closed his eyes and breathed deeply. Deciding against the procedure, he closed the flap on his head.

He couldn't possibly deactivate the communication chip at a time like this. Certainly, he had spare communication badges Starfleet had given him with the ship, and the ship itself was fitted with a working communication system. However, there was an appeal to the communication chip he had designed. It was more secure. And at a time where their enemy was telepathic, he could not afford to risk losing that security.

Lore got to his feet and paced back and forth in his quarters. He was not about to stop being Captain any time soon, and he was already at risk of being impaired given the recent Betazoid attacks. Then how could he show Data he was worthy of his trust?

Lore found himself grappling with a series of emotions he did not normally let himself feel. Feelings like anger came very easily to him, perhaps too easily, but feelings like love and affection were rare. Feelings like sorrow and despair were perhaps even rarer. And yet, Lore would describe his feelings as mournful yet affectionate, a cruel mix of the two. He felt like he had lost a close friend. Indeed, Data had been close to him, once. Lore felt he was at risk of losing him for good, now more than ever if the Enterprise was waiting for them on Omicron Theta. It didn't matter if Data said he believed in the Selene and his purpose, the two Soong androids knew there were always new recruits waiting to be stationed in his place. With the Selene's reputation already established among Starfleet, there would be nothing for him to lose if he left. Someone else could fulfill that dream, and Data could be with his friends again... away from Lore.

Lore sat at his workstation and activated the monitor. He typed a query into the computer system. The answer appeared on screen.

_Commander Data is in his quarters._

* * *

><p>In his quarters, Data was playing a slow rendition of Blue Skies by Irvin Berlin on his violin. The tune sounded as if it might fit nicely to an army walking towards a battlefield with the knowledge that they would fail. It was a powerful idea – and one completely contrary to the original spirit of the song.<p>

Data's dragged the horse-tails across the strings of the instrument. He closed his eyes and gently hummed the tune as it came to a close. Data accessed his memory banks for a new song and settled on Kreisler, the song Schon Rosmarin. It was a relatively upbeat song.

The tune reminded Data of his cat, Spot, who had been with him on the USS-Enterprise. Alas, the cat was no longer around to hear it. Data had brought the cat with him onto the Selene but felines had small lifespans. The orange cat had died of old age eventually. Data remembered finding him behind the couch one day, thinking he was asleep, but soon realizing the truth.

He never had the heart to get a new pet. Given large portions of the ship needed to have life support removed for long intervals as part of their unique defense and energy-saving system, Data had let the life support in his quarters go. It would be impossible for any living creature to inhabit in his quarters again, let alone roam the rest of the ship. Even if he did get a new pet, it would have been forced to have a constrained and limited existence. He did not feel it was appropriate to force such an existence on any living creature. It would be like living in a prison. Unlike a pet, Data would have not been bound to a location by the need for oxygen.

As Data was playing the tune, the doorbell rang. Data continued playing the violin and called. 'Yes?'

The automatic doors slid open. Lore stood in the doorway – wearing boots this time, Data noted. There was a determined, yet weary, look on his face.

Data's gaze returned to the violin. He placed more loudly.

'May I come in?' Lore asked.

'That depends, Captain, if you plan on breaking any of my things,' Data replied curtly. 'Poor behaviour on your part will not be tolerated in my quarters.'

Lore straightened his back and entered, standing by his First Officer who continued to play the violin. 'Let me get straight to the point. If I deleted my communication chip program, would you trust me again? Would you be willing to call me brother again?'

Data changed song, feeling restless suddenly. He stuck with Kreisler, and chose Liebesleid. It had elements of happiness and sadness in it. His eyes closed, focusing on the melody, trying to ease his nerves. Lore dared to ask for Data to trust him when he had kicked him in the gut several hours ago? It was if the act hadn't even registered in Lore's brain as important to Data's appraisal of him.

'Captain, my trust cannot be earned by simply deactivating your communications chip.'

'Then would you _consider_ trusting me again?' Lore rephrased, malice entering his tone. Lore cleared his throat loudly so Data could hear him over the music. 'Don't ignore me. I am being serious.'

'As am I, Captain,' Data replied, his arm moving vigorously with the tune. 'I am completely serious. You violated my privacy, my trust, my faith in you for _five_ long years while I was stationed here, although I did not realize it until the damage had already been done. I admit my error. But even after that, you continue to try restore what had been an unbalanced personal relationship by acting irresponsibly - by threatening me and breaking things. Our most recent meeting being a prime example. And still, I have yet to hear a sincere apology from you regarding your behaviour. In fact, I have yet to hear any apology at all.'

Lore growled and wrung his hands together. 'You _agreed_ to let me share feelings and memories with you _ten_ years ago, did you forget? I see no reason to apologize when I was merely doing as we decided upon. And as for earlier, I only acted as I did because you failed to acknowledge my feelings – you ignored my questions. Yes, I got angry. Yes, I hit you – but to try snap some sense into you! I see my efforts to get you to see reason have failed, brother. If I am sorry about anything, it is my failure to get you to see reason!'

Data's focus on his instrument broke. The bow slid off the strings with a sharp wailing sound.

'You should not blame other people for your own lack of self control, Captain,' Data argued. 'Regardless of your feelings, your demands were and are unreasonable and you should reconsider your approach.'

As Data was about to prop the instrument back under his chin, Lore pushed down on top of it, preventing the instrument from making contact with his flesh.

'Stop trying to ignore me with your music, your _paintings, _your _rank_,' Lore snarled, yanking the instrument out of Data's grasp. Lore placed the instrument on a nearby table. Data's eyes were still adamant. Lore sighed. How else could he get through to him? What other approach could he try? Begging? Lore's fists clenched, feeling resistant to the mere idea. But Lore reconsidered. How far was he willing to go to keep Data close to him? He could deal with begging for a short while.

'Truth be told, I do not want to you leave the Selene, Data. Please tell me what I can do for you to trust me again. Please tell me what I can do to make you stay.'

Data cocked his head to the side, a small smile crossing his face. His eyes were not kind.

'I never thought I would see the day where my Captain begged for mercy from his inferior officer,' Data said, sardonically. He crossed his arms. 'The only thing I want you to do is apologize to me for what you have done. I might consider forgiving you, in that case.'

'I will not apologize when the blame should be shared equally between us,' Lore retorted. 'What else can I do? There must be something else.'

'There is nothing else you can do, Lore,' Data replied. 'I will not accept anything less than an apology. Even if we both have a role to play in this equation, I would still like to hear an apology from you. You _owe_ me an apology.'

He went to the table and picked up the violin again. He started to play, continuing the Liebesleid. Lore listened to the music for several moments and gazed upon his brother's eyes as they fluttered shut, concentrating on the melody.

'To apologize would be to admit that I was wrong – but I am not wrong! We were both wrong! You should apologize to me, too.'

'If that is how you feel, then I cannot help you, Captain. I owe you no apology.'

Data continued to play the violin. Lore shook his head, his fists shaking.

'Then you leave me no choice, brother,' Lore began. His fingers snaked up to his own neural net and pressed down on his scalp, access to the positronic net popping open. 'I will sabotage my communication chip and prevent me from ever making use of that program again. You will have the distance you want from me, and we never have to speak to one another again. You will have peace from your irresponsible older brother. I hope you are ready for freedom, Data.'

Lore's fingers worked quickly and carefully as he pulled out portion by portion of his neural network to access the chip embedded within. As he removed sections, he felt his neural net losing key functions. His internal chronometer was put offline. He started to lose all sensation in his right leg as his somatosensory cortex was temporarily removed.

One of Data's eyes opened and he suddenly stopped playing as Lore placed micro-arrays and micro-circuits of neural net onto the table.

'Captain, stop. I cannot allow you to do this.'

Data placed the instrument down and wrapped his fingers around a green chip, one that Lore was about to place on the table. Their fingers touched and palms brushed each other as Data scooped up the machinery. Leaning over Lore's head, Data placed it carefully back into his neural net. The lights blinked in and out of phase as key systems were disrupted and reintegrated into the whole.

'Why … not?' Lore mumbled, his speech center preventing him from producing coherent speech. Perhaps it was because several key systems were removed, but he felt a small warmth in his stomach in response to Data's actions. 'Would you… would you… _miss_ me… brother?'

Lore felt Data's fingers pressing against his positronic network to replace key portions of the speech processor. Lore's eyes closed, a small smile crossing his face as his brother helped reassemble his cortices.

'As First Officer I cannot let my Captain remove such a key system when it is an important security consideration on board this ship,' Data said simply.

Lore's heart fell at Data's reasoning, but he was not about to complain. Perhaps on some level, he had gotten through to him. It was just a shame it didn't last very long. Data replaced the final chip and gently pressed Lore's bioplast sheeting back against his scalp. He made no more contact than necessary, however, his hands were soon grappling with the violin again.

'If this conflict is to cause our personal relationship to deteriorate further, then I will delete my communication program instead. Maybe I will feel more comfortable with you, but I estimate only a small chance of that occuring. It remains to be seen whether that will be true,' Data explained. He positioned the instrument under his chin but hesitated, not yet letting the bow make contact with the strings. Lore felt the audio static associated with Data's communication chip access disappear as the program was deleted. 'It does not replace an apology, but this will do for now and will not carry the same risks than if you were to delete yours, considering you are Captain of this vessel. I will collect a communicator badge and use the ship's in built system, instead.'

'Then you won't be leaving the Selene?' Lore queried, the faintest hint of hopefulness entering his voice.

Data started to play the violin again. 'I never said that, Captain.'

Data turned to face the window. Stars were streaking past like raindrops on the side-window of a moving vehicle. Data was playing a musical piece called Thaïs as written by Jules Massenet as played by Kreisler. Lore stood beside Data for several moments, examining Data's lips pursing at key moments in the song, his shoulders heaving at each high note and his head bowing at each low one. The music was romantic in nature though its tune was very mournful and nostalgic. It was like a song mourning lost loves or friends. A song longing for renewed friendships. And Data was not merely producing the music, he was breathing it in, soaking it in. _He_ was mourning something.

Mourning old friends on board the Enterprise, perhaps, Lore thought.

He turned and left Data's quarters, leaving Data to be absorbed in his music.

As he walked down the hall from Data's quarters, he received a message from Lieutenant Commander Brent.

'Captain, are you there?'

Lore tuned his neural network to decipher the algorithm.

'Listening. What is the problem?'

'Three Betazoid ships have just decloaked above us and on both sides, sir.'

'Decloaking during maximum warp, are they crazy?' Lore transmitted with an air of disbelief. 'What are their weapons arsenal like?'

'Individually, they are not as strong as the previous ship, Captain, but all together their combined forces are greater.'

'I'm on my way up. Start red alert,' Lore transmitted, but as he was about to enter turbolift one, he remembered that Data had just deleted his communication chip and had no badge attached to his chest. Lore ran back to Data's quarters, shouting. 'First Officer Data, you are required on the bridge!'

* * *

><p><em>AN: I listened to several different violin songs on youtube to decide Data's (varied) music selection during this chapter. I would recommend googling some of them, especially the last piece Data plays. Kreisler is officially my favorite violinist now, not that I'm terribly familiar with them. I'm no musician.  
><em>


	8. Kidnapped

Data sighed as the light in his quarters ceiling went red. He placed his violin on the table, glancing outside the window. Outside he could see an elongated purple vessel decloaking. It was a transport ship technically, known for its high defences despite its small size. Unlike most transport vessels, however, this one had a series of photon lasers installed along the lateral portion of the ship.

As an alarm tone sounded through the Selene, Data observed the Betazoid ship slowly drawing nearer. As Data left his quarters to race to the bridge, he bumped into his Captain. The two crashed to the ground.

'Captain, it appears the enemy vessel is attempting to ram us,' Data said quickly, getting to his feet.

'Vessels,' Lore corrected. 'There are three of them.'

Lore sent Brent an order to drop out of warp speed, but before the order could be executed, there was a flash of white light between Lore and Data and a Betazoid man appeared between them. Looking between the two androids, quizzically examining their identical red uniforms, he grasped Data's arm. In a split second, the two had vanished in an equally bright flash of light.

Lore was suddenly alone in the corridor. As he stood in the empty corridor in surprise, he received a message from Lars.

'I regret to inform you that the hostages are gone, sir.'

Lore sent Brent a frantic message. 'Drop out of warp, try to lock onto the life sign that had taken Data.'

'The ships did not drop out of warp, sir,' Brent responded suddenly. 'Our inbuilt long range sensors have lost track of them. They're gone.'

* * *

><p>The turbolift stopped and Lore strode onto the bridge.<p>

'They're not gone until I say they are!' he yelled, passing by Brent and giving the android a cold stare. 'Continue on course to Omicron Theta at maximum warp. Keep an eye out for them.'

'They must have left this sector, sir,' Brent said quickly. 'I felt Data drop from the communication link several minutes ago.'

Lore sat in his chair and ran a hand through his hair. 'That is not because they're out of this sector, that is because Data deleted his communication program several minutes ago. Send out long ranged probes and continue course back to Omicron Theta.'

'It's done, sir,' Brent said. The android turned his head slowly to glance at Lore, an eyebrow raised. 'I question why Data deleted his program, Captain. Given the circumstances it does not sound like a reasonable thing to do.'

Lore was quick to calculate an appropriate excuse. 'It was to prepare for a situation like this, of course. We wouldn't want the enemy to get ahold of our technology, would we?'

'Of course not, sir,' Veneer said, spinning around in his chair and nodding at Brent. 'But why would you not discuss this with all of us in a meeting first?'

'I felt it was appropriate to discuss such an important and sensitive matter with my First Officer before discussing it with the crew,' Lore said. His eyes narrowed. 'I was about to inform you of the new decision when I returned, but the Betazoid interrupted that plan. Any more questions? No? In that case, Brent, anything on the sensors?'

Brent shook his head. 'I see nothing on the sensors, Captain. If they're cloaked, which is likely, without more precise coordinates it would be impossible to locate them. The probes that detect cloaked vessels have a limited range of fifty thousand kilometres.'

Lore gripped the arm rest of his chair. 'Open up a subspace channel to Omicron Theta. We'll need help tracking them down.'

* * *

><p>Data rematerialised on the Betazoid ship with a flash of light. As soon as he appeared, the Betazoid let go of his arm and a bright cylindrical red force field surrounded the android. Data was standing in what appeared to be a cargo bay. It was filled with shuttlecrafts and six other Betazoid. Three of the Betazoid were Bluxoy, Selur and Crax. They all stared at Data with weary gazes. A medical officer approached Bluxoy and ran a tricorder over her bandaged hands before guiding her out of the bay. Selur and Crax were exchanging glances with the security officers, recognisable by the phasers in their belts, presumably in a telepathic exchange.<p>

Data's eyes fluttered over his pupils as he attempted to access his internal memory banks for remnants of the deleted communication code. Feeling resistance, he recognized the encrypted code in a manner decipherable only to the Borg – or perhaps Lore. Data's eyes ceased moving from side to side and examined a lilac-clothed Betazoid who was approaching. The Betazoid male was pulling on a pair of black gloves and carried a flat cylindrical beacon in his right. Data recognized it as a circuit disruptor.

Data spun around, looking for gaps in the force field, but could find no way to penetrate it. It would appear he could not escape by force. Data stared at the Betazoid male.

'What is it you want from me? I may be able to assist you,' Data explained. 'I am First Officer of the Starfleet ship Selene, Commander Data. I hope to assure you that we can find a peaceful solution to whatever problem is ailing you.'

The Betazoid glanced at Data's lips but did not respond. He positioned his right hand over the force field and pressed a small green button on the circuit disruptor. The closest portion of the force field flared and Data felt his circuits in his right arm become jammed. Any attempt to move his arm failed. It was frozen. No sensory or motor information could be relayed to that section.

The Betazoid kneeled and repeated the action by his knee. The circuit disruptor beeped loudly and the force field shrieked. Data's right leg became paralysed.

'My Captain, Lore, would be willing to cooperate peacefully,' Data continued, trying to keep his voice steady. 'But he will not be pleased with you if any of my circuits are damaged.'

The Betazoid continued around Data, moving behind his back. Data tried to track the Betazoid by straining his neck from side to side, but the force field let out a bang and Data's could no longer move his neck. It was stuck facing the left.

'That is a very potent circuit disrupter,' Data commented. 'If you wish to preserve my positronic network then I would not recommend using it any closer to my head. It could cause irreparable damage to my memory banks.'

Data stopped talking then, realizing that the Betazoid was either not interested or already familiar with what Data was saying. As the rest of his body was paralysed minus his head, the force field was removed. A loud screeching and rumbling noise appeared as a stretcher rolled out from behind a shuttle craft. With the help from several other Betazoid the one with the circuit disrupter picked up the android and placed him on the stretcher. Data's gaze landed on a female Betazoid stomach. Even with straining his eyes sideways he could barely see what they were doing, but he already had a suspicion of what was about to happen to him. Since his circuits were jammed, Data was incapable of feeling the static jolts that were normally associated with dismemberment, but he was capable of seeing faint glimpses of hands wrapping around his upper shoulder and thighs. He could hear his Starfleet uniform being stretched and compressed as his arms and legs were pulled out through his clothing like prosthetic limbs. He heard the loud clunks as they were deposited on the metal stretcher by his abdomen.

The android gazed helplessly as the male Betazoid who had used the circuit breaker reached his hands around Data's neck as if to strangle him, his fingers sliding and grasping across his bioplast skin. It were as if trying to open a stubborn container.

With a soft hissing and clicking sound, Data's head was removed from his body. Data's head was carried into the air. Data's field of view suddenly focused on the stretcher. His limbs and body were sprawled across it. Two Betazoid, both female, stared at Data with empty expressions. Data looked at the Betazoid holding him up. He could not decipher his expression. The Betazoid placed Data's head on the stretcher, letting it balance on the hinges of the neck. A thick black tube then surrounded his head and Data saw nothing but blackness.

The only indication Data had of moving was the result of the stretcher vibrating, it caused an uncomfortable tickling sensation in his neck, ears, and cheeks.

* * *

><p>Captain Lore pressed his spine against the back of his chair and cracked his neck.<p>

'Open a secure subspace channel to Admiral William Riker,' Lore demanded. 'Priority One message.'

'Opening channel, sir,' Brent replied promptly. 'It may take a few minutes.'

Lore drummed his fingers against the armrest impatiently, watching the stars fly past on the view screen with a frozen expression of discontent on his face. _If only Data hadn't deleted his communication program!_ Lore's teeth bit down on his tongue.

'We have a secure connection, Captain,' Brent said swiftly. Lore's fingers jabbed into his console. Admiral Riker's face appeared on the monitor, and his eyebrow was raised.

'Captain, what is the problem?'

'My First Officer has been kidnapped by the Betazoid and the hostages we managed to secure have been also taken. They managed to transport onto our ship during maximum warp. I would like to request backup to improve the scope of our search.'

Admiral Riker squinted at the monitor and leaned back in his chair. 'Did I hear you correctly, Captain? Did you say they transported onto your ship at maximum warp?'

'Yes. I didn't think it was possible, either,' Lore grumbled. 'At any rate, our attempts to track Commander Data have been unsuccessful. We sent out a few long ranged probes to look for life signs but with no useful results. We have also had no luck identifying subspace signals that might suggest a cloaking device.'

'Well,' Riker began. 'The Betazoid may have altered their cloaking signature to avoid detection.' Riker paused. 'As for backup, I know you want to retrieve Commander Data as soon as possible, but we do not have the ships to send out at this point in time. All the ships currently situated at Omicron Theta are military not exploratory, all transport ships were evacuated to the nearest Starbase.'

'So you are saying you cannot help me?' Lore demanded. His fingers clenched the armrest. 'You cannot even send out a transport ship carrying extra probes?'

'And risk them being destroyed by other Betazoid vessels?' Admiral Riker queried. 'Look, calm down, Captain. I want to get Data back as much as you do but we need to be smart about this. I will ask the Enterprise to come to Omicron Theta as soon as possible to assist in the search.'

'The Enterprise?' Lore repeated.

'Yes, you heard correctly, Captain,' Riker said, giving Lore a curt nod. 'The Enterprise is the only other exploration starship with sensor arrays as sensitive as the Selene's. I am sure the Enterprise would only be more than happy to cooperate with the Selene to help with this mission. When will you be arriving at Omicron Theta?'

'Two days, Admiral,' Brent spoke up from his position.

'Then I expect to see you in two days, Captain,' Riker said. He was about to terminate the transmission when he gave Lore a scrutinising look. Lore's knuckles were white from clenching the armrest so tightly, though his face appeared calm. 'I can see you're worried about this, Captain, but try not to beat yourself up about this too much. Neither of us would have guessed the Betazoid could have made a successful transport at maximum warp speed.' Lore tried to force a smile on his face but his facial tic appeared instead. Riker smiled faintly. 'We look forward to welcoming the Selene to Omicron Theta. Riker out.'


	9. The Counselor

As the communication with Admiral William Riker ended, Lore got to his feet and head to turbolift one. As the doors to the turbolift closed with a hissing sound, he received a transmission from Lieutenant Commander Veneer.

'Am I correct in assuming that there was something more to the story regarding Commander Data's communication chip, sir?' Veneer's voice came.

Lore leaned against the turbolift wall as it vibrated, shadows being cast along the walls as it descended. The Captain crossed his arms, his lips becoming a thin line.

'What would make a subordinate Lieutenant Commander such as yourself question his Captain?' Lore countered through his positronic network. Lore heard static for several moments.

'Lars has been acting strangely, sir,' Veneer offered. 'He said some curious things to me earlier.'

Lore exited the turbolift and walked down the long corridor.

'Strange how?' Lore asked. 'That boy was always strange.'

'He seemed to imply that Commander Data was emotionally unstable in a conversation I had with him, Captain. I hope you'll excuse my curiosity. I hope you don't think I'm overstating my authority in asking for more information, sir.'

Lore walked automatically down the corridor, passing empty quarters and abandoned rooms. The red alert alarms stopped, shrouding the corridors in the darkness of the early morning hours. Frost clung to the side lamps and refracted specs of light into tiny rainbow dots.

'I might have a chat with our dear engineer, in that case,' Lore told Veneer through the communication chip. He had no intention of addressing Veneer's concerns directly, but he hoped to undermine his premise. Having Veneer question his judgement was the last thing he needed. 'It sounds like he might be unwell. From my knowledge there is nothing wrong with Commander Data. Thank you for alerting me to this problem, I will investigate.'

Lore shut off the transmission. He accessed Lars's neural net.

'We need to have a talk, boy. Privately.'

He got no response. He repeated his message to the android. Lore listened to static for ten long seconds before giving up. Lore stopped in his tracks. 'Computer, requesting location of Lieutenant Commander Lars.'

'Lieutenant Commander Lars is in engineering.'

'And what is he doing, disassembling himself?' Lore snapped. Clicking his fingers he turned at the nearest junction and walked to engineering.

* * *

><p>Data's retinal cells responded to the sudden glare of light. His pupils focused on a blank wall. Above, he heard the click of his positronic network being exposed. Glancing upward blinded him. Bright lights in the ceiling obscured the figure standing over him. Data's eyes rolled back to the blank wall in front of him.<p>

From the sound of it, there was a computer console behind him and somebody's fingers were recording a message. The zipping sound of a cord reached around his right side. Data felt his positronic network linking up with the Betazoid computer. A quick scan told Data that the link was only one way – the signals leading into the main computer only accepted commands and read requests if it originated from the computer itself.

Data heard the dull scratching sound of chips and micro-processors being extracted and placed onto the table in a systematic fashion.

'Are…' Data began, but his speech processor had been removed. He felt his cognitive processes slowing as a few logical processors were removed from within the hemispheres.

About a dozen black and red-shielded wires fell into his field of view, small pinchers on the end of them. Every few seconds, a new wire disappeared and a faint sizzling noise reached his eardrums.

Suddenly, Data recognised two different systems being linked together in a new network through his internal diagnostic system. His emotion chip was being attached to his visual cortex in a patterned array that in turn was linked to his somatosensory cortex and then looped back to the emotion chip.

Data's sensors detected a small voltage being passed through the system. His vision was filled with patches of red and black for a few seconds. It stopped abruptly. He heard new connections being made, but to where or what, he had no idea. Then the voltage was reapplied, at approximately two micro volts, approximating the level of electrical current through humanoid cortical sheets.

His cognitions became fuzzy, and he lost awareness of several quadrants of his visual field. Within those quadrants, however, was the unformed wisps of a memory. As the android's focus on the outside world started to disappear, the memory was absorbed into his conscious mind.

Data imagined he was in the Holodeck on the Selene. He was in simulated laboratory. The sight of it made Data's lip twitch. In the memory, Data was sitting on a plain wooden chair, arms tied down to the back legs and his ankles strapped to the front legs. Tight ropes surrounded his chest and circled down to above his hip structure. A rope had been tightly pulled around his neck, the sharp fibres pricking the inside of his lips.

He had been there for several moments before he experienced a sensation of impending doom. It was an abstract, frightful sensation, like his body was going to be plucked out of existence. He became uncomfortably aware of his biofluids circulating in his system at a heightened rate.

His instincts told him to get away – to get out – least he die. He recognised it as irrational, but could not identify the source. Data struggled against his binds, pulling his arms sideways, red marks appearing on his bioplast skin.

A tutting sound reached his ear from his left. He felt the cool flutter of breath against his ear.

'Come, now, brother, doth mine eyes deceive me?' Lore chuckled. Data's spine curled as Lore's finger traced a line down his neck, plucking the nape of his uniform with an air of amusement. 'You're trying to escape?'

Data blinked and the memory, vivid and consuming, dissipated into something Data could consider himself detached from. It had arisen from the malfunctioning visual field and that is where it left, turning into a visual fog.

Data was reminded that he was simply a detached head sitting on a Betazoid desk with cords and wires sticking out from his positronic brain. As the memory faded from consciousness, Data became aware of the hairs on his neck being on end, and that he was biting down on his tongue. The android squinted his eyes shut, focusing on the humming of the Betazoid ship's engines, willing the memory away.

His eyelids fluttered open, and he sensed a larger current being applied to the circuit in his positronic net. Against his will Data was back in the laboratory, in the memory on the Holodeck.

His bare toes slipped and wriggled against the floor in agitation, incapable of movement. His teeth dug into the rope fibres gagging him and small splinters penetrated his flesh. They did not harm him, but they were an unwelcome presence in his bioplast sheeting. His tongue slid helplessly against the rope, trying to feel a point of weakness against the gag but finding none. His vision blurred, the laboratory's diagram of a circuit board the only thing in sight.

The android's fingernails dug into the chair legs and left thin dent-marks.

A Soong-android circled him, eyeing him up and down with a frown. Lore lifted his foot a few inches into the air and ran the ball of his heel a quarter up Data's leg, sliding across his uniform fabric with ease. As he did, Data turned his head to the left and closed his eyes tight. The mere touch was causing his body to shriek in protest – get away! _Get away! _

He did not understand the feeling, he only knew it was disturbing and filled him with fear.

'What's the matter, brother? I thought you liked playing with me.' Lore kneeled in front of Data and held his hands over Data's cold ones, forcing his constant fidgeting to stop. Data opened an eye and glanced at his brother, his mouth opening, the rope sliding backwards in his jaw in response.

Data tried to speak.

'Brwthr,' he garbled. 'Pleesh, shahp. I donaught wahnnneru-' He closed his mouth, trying to control the saliva pouring from the sides of his mouth but finding himself unable to.

Lore raised a brow at Data. His expression gained the air of concern.

'Shhh. Just relax, Data. You'll feel better after a few minutes.'

Data's forehead creased. His fingers pushed backwards against Lore's palms, trying to force his wrists free.

'Is that how you treat your older brother, Data?' Lore looked down at him. His lip curled, his eyes glancing at Data's chin where his failed speech had produced a copious amount of drool that was dripping into his lap. Lore smiled. 'You look so pitiful, brother.'

The memory started to slide back into unawareness.

Momentary disorientation consumed him, his neural net firing and overloading the circuit the Betazoid had fashioned. Data's lip twitched into a mournful frown, his eyes squinting shut in a vain effort to send the memory away from whence it came. The panic that had overwhelmed him threatened to spill over into his consciousness. That overwhelming urge to escape – run away.

Data could hear a console being jabbed with a finger behind him as he regained awareness of his surroundings. He heard sparks emanating from his neural net.

The sizzling sound ceased. Then, Data heard the first Betazoid voice since he had been abducted.

'What was that memory, Data?'

The voice wasn't just surprising to hear given the Betazoid had refused to speak to him until then… The voice was familiar. He found his memory banks difficult to access, when he tried to request old memories the ones of Lore threatened to rise. It seemed he would not need to wonder for long, however.

He felt hands around his temples as he was picked up and spun around in the Betazoid's hands, palms pressing against his temples, then cheeks, then over his sideburns. Once the handling had ceased, he stared into the face of a handsome Betazoid woman a few inches from him. She had deep set eyes, wide lips, and sleek dark brown curls held up in a bun. His eyelids fluttered over his eyeballs at the sight of the Betazoid. Her eyes were not as large as the others. At the sight of her, it jumpstarted inactive circuits and improved access to his memory banks. It took him a few minutes to realize who it was. When he recognised the visage, he could hardly believe it. Surely he was hallucinating?

'Counselor Troi?' Data breathed.

Troi nodded slowly, her eyes turning to her left. There was someone next to her.

The Betazoid male who had disrupted Data's circuits earlier was holding a phaser gun to her head, his finger resting over the trigger.

'Were you abducted too, Counselor?' Data whispered.

The Betazoid male pushed the phaser gun deeper into her scalp. Troi sighed.

'I am here to assist with their investigation,' Troi explained softly, her eyes darting towards the Betazoid male with distaste. 'The more information you offer, the less likely they'll end up hurting you… or me.'

'I see,' Data said, his visual senses functioning well enough, though to say he understood was an understatement. With his cognitive abilities impaired and memory access altered he could not begin to hypothesise what the Betazoid wanted with him, why testing these circuits were necessary. It had nothing to do with the communication chip from what he could see. Were they trying to extract information from him about Lore?

His eyes fell upon the table in front of him, looking upon a pair of tweezers. He sighed, hesitating to share his memory. He could barely stand to remember it, let alone share it. Data's eyes focused on the male Betazoid suddenly. The Betazoid's spare hand reached over to an electronic board with dozens of black wires sticking out of it. In a flash, Data felt the voltage through his newly formed circuit whirring awake, and with it, the memory he had so desperately and narrowly avoided.


	10. Desperation

Engineering on the Selene had icy floors and fog that hovered around the warp coils. It was almost always shrouded in perpetual darkness except for the ceiling lamp lit at one of the nearby consoles. The lone lit console appeared as if from a film noir, except the mysterious investigator leaning over the console was in fact an android. Specks of frost clung to his gold skin like ice on a car's windshield after an cold evening.

Lars was using a small electronic flat-headed screwdriver to pull the side of one of the Betazoid phasers apart. He worked in silence as he examined the circuits within.

It was visually identical to an ordinary phaser except for an extra energy coil. As Lars examined it more closely, footsteps reached his ears.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. TAP. TAP.

They became louder and louder in his head.

TAP. TAP. TAP.

It was soon reaching the point where it was no longer a simple echo in the hallways, but an echo in his own head. The android stopped working, his fingers pressed against the side of the energy coil, waiting for the sound to subside. It was as if his head was a gong and was being repeatedly hit for a Betazoid food thanking ritual. Lars held his hands over his ears. The tapping did not stop.

Lars rerouted the sensory signals to be interpreted by his motor system. This little trick was something he picked up several months ago, but he had only found a main use for it recently.

The noise stopped, muted from awareness. His left eyelid started to twitch. It twitched at each footfall until finally it stopped.

Fog emanated from Lars's mouth as a breath of relief.

'When did I give you permission to ignore my transmissions, Lieutenant Commander?' came a voice.

Lars turned from his console, seeing his Captain standing by the warp coils behind him. Lore ran his hands over the railing guarding the coils as if caressing a tame animal. The Captain's eyes widened expectantly once he caught Lars's eye. 'Well?'

'I never heard your transmission, sir, I apologize,' Lars said.

'Why do I find it hard to believe you?' Lore said, raising his hands. The sound of his hands being removed from the railing made a gentle clinking sound and echoed through the tall room.

Lars leaned back against his console and turned his head.

'I have had some problems with sensory gain in my circuits, Captain.' In the light of the blue warp coils, Lars's face split into a frown. 'Especially with repetitive sounds. I couldn't hear your transmission over the sound of… over the sound of the warp coils.'

'That is unacceptable, Lieutenant Commander.'

Lore beckoned to Lars. He pointed to the floor in front of him.

Lars walked toward his Captain, keeping his head turned away and bowed to obscure his twitching eyelid as his boots hit the floor.

As he came to a stop, Lore's hand clutched Lars's face and pulled it up to eye level. Lore scanned Lars's face. He tapped his boot on the floor three times, and observed as Lars's eye twitched three times in unison.

Lore's fingers pressed into the sides of Lars's cheeks before letting go.

'Tell me, Lieutenant Commander, is this because you have been spending time with that woman in the Holodeck?'

Lars held a palm over his twitching eye. 'I have merely been under some duress recently, that's all.'

'Duress because of that good-for-nothing Vulcan thing you call a wife!' Lore snapped. 'You don't understand the problem, Lieutenant Commander. This isn't a mere problem of self-control, it's a problem of obsessiveness. You don't know when to give up,' Lore spoke, his voice verging on threatening but not quite reaching it. 'Don't you see? If you weren't so obsessed with that fantasy – that hopeless imaginary fairy tale - your circuits would not be amplifying every little thing you heard! You're familiar enough with how it starts, aren't you? First it amplifies the things you want, like the sensory input patterns of your wife, and then it amplifies the things you don't, like my footsteps or the warp coils,' Lore pressed a finger into Lars's chest. 'Your circuits - the gain function - is getting caught in an iterative loop. You know what humans call that, Lars? They call it insanity. I will not tolerate it on my ship.'

Lars's hand fell from his face. The demonic whispers of his wife suddenly reached his ears, speaking of ill-fated meetings and vengeance. The voice was harsh and condemning, and distracting. Lars rerouted the signals to his face. Lar's right cheek twitched.

'Are you ignoring me now? What other sounds did you reroute to your motor system?' Lore demanded. 'Are you hearing her voice? Does she comfort you? Does she protect you from the voice of reason? Stop being such a coward and face reality, you foolish metal lump! It is interfering with your duties on this ship!'

Lars's palm clutched the right side of his face, his eyes falling to look at Lore's red Starfleet uniform. Lore's voice echoed in his mind, but Lars could only think of what a relief it was not to hear the woman's voice in his head, telling him what a good-for-nothing he was, accusing him of not attending to her womanly needs, telling him about her escapades with the Vulcan men on Omicron Theta… Lars drew his attention back to his Captain.

'Don't try to hide it from me, Lars. You can't hide from me,' Lore began, twisting Lars's wrist in his grasp and pulling it away from his face. Lars's yellow eyes darted at Lore's hand in surprise. 'Let me tell you why I came down here in the first place before I encountered this sensory gain problem of yours. Thing is, you have been making my crew suspicious of me,' Lore argued. 'You said something to Veneer earlier and now he thinks there is something wrong with Data's judgement – and by extension, my own. There are many reasons for you to abandon your Holodeck fantasies, and this is but another, and arguably more important, reason. I don't care what your excuse is - paranoia, depression, mania - it is not your place to disrespect your senior officers.'

'I see nothing wrong with the crew questioning the judgement of their Captain where it's warranted,' Lars retorted. He closed his eyes and clutched his cheek, his face twitching violently. 'That protecting our technology excuse was bogus, I think they sense that. None of them are willing to come out and say it, but I think it's _your_ fault Commander Data was kidnapped! If he still had his communication chip we may have been able to track him.'

Lore spoke through grit teeth. 'You ignore the fact that their cloaking and teleportation abilities seem to be superior to our own.' Even as Lore said this, doubt grew in his neural net. He did not want to show doubt in front of Lars, however, not when the boy was clearly so unstable already. He didn't want to add fuel to the fire. 'Regardless, I grow tired of your insubordination, Lars. I don't care how you feel about it, you're going to do as I say.'

The Captain's eyes narrowed. Lore stamped his feet on the ground several times. The muscle spasms in Lars's face made it seem like he was about to be thrown into a seizure. Lore stamped harder, his boots banging noisily on the floor and echoing through the room to him, but appearing as distracting and painful muscle spasms in Lars's face. Lars blinked furiously every time Lore's boot hit the floor. Each time his face twitched, Lore got the impression that he was being knocked more and more out of some kind of day-dream. His pupils went from being unfocused to active and monitoring his Captain's footfalls.

'Your job is on the line, Lars! Are you going to listen to my orders or are you going to be dismissed? Don't be unreasonable, Lieutenant Commander! The choice is an easy one.'

'Don't torment me, Captain!'

Lars's voice was so pained and distraught that Lore stopped stamping his foot on the ground.

Lars turned away from his Captain, hunched over. His shoulders shook and his arm brushed across his console, knocking the Betazoid weapon to the floor. The pieces clinked and clattered.

How could Lore possibly expect him to work when his neural net was amplifying every second thing and kept generating false impressions of his wife in his audio-sensors? How could the Captain expect him to follow orders, when his neural net was already struggling with following his own?

'Captain, please. I must request that you do not ask me to reroute my senses until we arrive at Omicron Theta,' Lars said softly. 'I have business to settle with my wife. The prospect of what will happen to our relationship on Omicron Theta has been bothering me greatly. I have been trying to forget about it, but this happened…' Lars motioned towards his cheek which had not stop twitching. 'Her voice has been tormenting me, Captain! I cannot stop it!'

Lars paused for a moment, taking a deep breath. 'To be frank, I have not imagining her with me, I have not been visiting the Holodeck to see her in a romantic setting, I have been imagining how our encounter on Omicron Theta will go – I have been preparing for our inevitable meeting! The inevitable termination of our relationship – our relationship of ten years length! You couldn't possibly understand what this is like!' Lore's shoulders shook and his fingers pressed into the sides of his nose, his face getting closer and closer to the console. His breath turned to fog in the air, the ice that had been collecting on his face and around his eyes slipping onto his console as small ice fragments. 'Have mercy on me, Captain. I beg of you.'

Lore could not have anticipated the response. His willingness to encounter the truth of his failed marriage was to be admired, though Lore pitied his poor coping abilities and impending insanity. Lars had been ignoring the signs for years, Lore knew that. The crew knew it. It had become obvious at their last visit on Omicron Theta seven months ago. Lore had watched Lars interact with his Vulcan wife with exuberance, but her expression was avoidant and unamused. Her gaze were filled with the empty maliciousness of a liar, her smiles false, her praise insincere. Lore could only think of Data at the mere consideration. Perhaps he was not so different from Lars, desperately trying to hold onto a personal relationship with Data as much as he could, despite it turning southwards. But even in his failures, Lore remembered how Data had helped him reassemble his neural net, the sincerity of his actions. Data had been honest, and sincere – in other words, there were the faint glimpses of a revival – of Lore redeeming himself. Lars's wife, however, was not honest - there was no hope in that relationship. The woman had given up. The decline of their relationship had been much more insidious, subtle, and dangerous… Irretrievable.

Lore approached Lars and put a hand on his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. The muscles under his bioplast skin were tight, and clenched in response to his action. He released his grip on his shoulder, patting the uniform gently instead.

'I misunderstood your intentions with the Holodeck. I apologise.' Lore said. His hand reached to the back of Lars's head and stroked it, gently. 'I could not be so merciless to my own son.'

Lars's head sank lower against the engineering console, his breath shallow.

Their relationship as father and son had not been vocally acknowledged for many years. As Lore showed hesitant affection for the android, his son, he considered the turmoil he was about to experience on Omicron Theta and felt sympathy.

Lore's fingers absentmindedly curled around Lars's hair. It was just like Data's hair, he thought. At that thought, Lore's hand retracted, a frown across his face. Indeed, Lars was the physical embodiment of Data. Unlike the other androids on the ship he had mostly kept his original appearance.

Lore patted the android on the back in a mild attempt at comfort.

'Keep your paranoias to yourself and you may continue working here as engineer until we get to Omicron Theta,' Lore said, gently. 'If you ignore any more of my transmissions, however, I will not be pleased. I hope for your sake that your motor systems are functioning adequately.'

* * *

><p>Data was pulled out of an unpleasant memory. If he was capable of producing sweat, he would have been at that moment. His eyes, squinting, fell upon Counselor Troi's above him. He focused on her skin, pale and smooth, trying to draw his attention off his own skin – of the feeling making his skin crawl, of the memory of binds strapping his body to the chair. A body he no longer had.<p>

He gulped. In his mind he grasped at wisps of memories, memories that weren't unpleasant memories of Lore.

'Do you remember Lars, Counselor?'

'Of course I do,' the Counselor said, crossing her hands in her lap. 'He was your second offspring after Lal.'

'I am afraid it was a bit more complicated than that,' Data started, closing his eyes. He focused on the memory of the android Lieutenant Commander in his mind, pushing the memory of Lore away. He found his access to his memory banks somewhat improved, though there was a notable delay between internal requests. 'Do you remember the reason I created him?'

'You wanted to feel love,' the Counselor nodded. Her lips pursed into a gentle smile. 'Yes, of course I remember, Data. You thought it would be unethical to consider Lars your child if he might one day become a romantic interest for you.'

'Correct,' Data said simply. His eyes gazed at the table, made of black material. He saw a reflection of his face in it, of his disembodied head. His yellow eyes darted from side to side. 'That is when we came to be aware of Lore's communication program. When Lore had access to my emotion chip after stealing it from Doctor Soong he programmed a curious piece of work that would allow his emotions, thoughts, and memories to influence a blank slate - that blank state being Lars. Eventually, it came to a point where I could no longer get along with Lars since his behaviour was so erratic.'

'Yes, and Lars remotely transferred his experiences and memories to Lore.'

'We did not know Lore had even been reactivated until then - until Dr Maddox contacted the Enterprise explaining how Lore wanted to see the other Soong-android,' Data mumbled. 'I remember feeling disbelief, Counselor. Disbelief that Lore was even alive...'

The android trailed off, clearly faltering. The Counselor was silent for a few moments.

'Data, why don't you tell me more about Lore?'

Data's eyes glanced at the Betazoid holding the phaser to Counselor Troi's temple.

'Before I do, I would like to know more about my purpose here. Why is it necessary for them to question me in this manner? Why are the Betazoid, usually a peaceful race, suddenly hostile towards us? Do we, the androids, represent a threat to their culture? Their way of life? If so, why did the Betazoid wait ten years after the creation of transference to initiate their attacks? Why had they not tried a diplomatic approach?'

Suddenly, the male Betazoid lowered the phaser and pointed it at the centre of Data's forehead.

'I merely want to understand,' Data urged, glancing at the Betazoid's narrowed eyes. He almost looked cross-eyed. 'Counselor, could you not explain their purpose and goals to me?'

The Counselor lifted a hand and tried to push the phaser away from Data's head, but as soon as Troi's fingers touched the device, she pulled her hand back as if she had been burnt.

'Data, he says if you knew you would refuse to cooperate.'

Data felt the cold metal head of the phaser being pushed into his forehead.

'Do you know why?'

'I do know,' the Counselor admitted. 'I'm Betazoid, they couldn't hide it from me for long.'

'Then do you feel there is truth in his claim?' Data queried. 'Do you think I would refuse to cooperate if I knew their purpose?'

'Most likely.'

'Then why do you cooperate?'

The Counselor's lips turned into a frown. Data's mouth opened slightly.

'Were you really kidnapped onto this ship, Counselor? Does Starfleet know you are here?'

'I am afraid I cannot answer those questions right now, Data,' the Counselor responded. 'Just know that the Betazoid here is dangerous and will hurt both of us if we do not help him.'

Data paused. He tried to access his internal logical processors. There were several removed from his neural net already so it processing his thoughts was slow.

If the Betazoid wanted to experiment on his neural net, then evidentially they had something to gain from doing so. Knowledge about androids were useful to them. If that was true, then it would stand to reason that the Betazoid were not terrorising Omicron Theta out of malice. Indeed, it would be out of character for them to do so. If it was not malice, then it must be curiosity. There was something about the transference procedure they wanted. But what?

Data felt his circuits misfire. He heard the clink of tweezers as another logical processor was removed. Data felt the phaser digging deeper into his forehead. Data felt his logical memory become overloaded with the information he wanted to process. A few seconds passed.

'Data, please tell me about your memory.'

Data looked at the Counselor. 'I am afraid I cannot tell you about my memory until my logical processors are replaced.'

It was a lie. He merely wanted to analyse the situation more closely. Counselor Troi was well aware of his meaning, however.

'Why can't you be reasonable, Data? The Betazoid on this ship are dangerous. They'll -'

'I cannot be reasonable until I know why I am here,' Data asserted. 'If Starfleet has not willingly agreed to help the Betazoid then I can only conclude that what they are doing is somehow a risk to Starfleet. I cannot, on good conscience, comply with your wishes.'

'Are you sure you just don't want to visit your memories of Lore?'

Data's eyes fell. 'I act as First Officer of the Selene when I say I refuse to cooperate.'

As Data spoke, he heard the trigger on the phaser being fired. As the purple beam seared his neural net, melted bioplast dripped down his nose and onto the table. Data sensed the beam sear his audio-processing unit. Other than that, he was unscathed.

'You do not wish to harm me,' Data noted. 'You avoided my key processing units intentionally.'

However, he had spoken too soon. The phaser was placed on the table.

Data felt the tweezers making contact with his positronic network. He felt his final logical processor being removed.

His internal thought processes became disjointed words and sentences with no coherent link between them. _Spaghetti is on the table, Borg, lemon water, replicator's broken, Crusher, I require usage of your medical tricorder._

Then, his audio-processing unit was removed and placed on the table. The clinking sound of the tweezers in his neural net became warped and garbled. Then, his visual cortex was rearranged. Data was suddenly unsure of what he was looking at. The right and left visual hemifields swapped, the environment meshing together as a coloured blur along the central meridian. His face processing chip was removed. The Betazoid woman and man looked unfamiliar to him, as if their bodies had been overtaken by other creatures. Their faces were threatening. He could not discern the eyes from the mouth, or the nose from the eyebrows.

Piece by piece, Data's circuits were removed. They were removed until he was only passively aware of his surroundings, and his surroundings did not mesh together into a coherent whole. His eyes unfocused, his visual sensors processing his environment but not making conscious decisions or judgements about their meaning. The bright lights above his head seemed to produce the sound of a hammer hitting metal, and the Betazoid man and woman in front of him seemed to produce a soothing piano piece as they moved. As their mouths moved to speak, no sound emanated from them. Instead, he felt as if sandpaper was being pressed and grated across his cheek.

Data was no longer a cognisant android, but a mere shell of his former self.

* * *

><p><em>AN: This chapter was really hard to write. I really struggled with the two parts - trying to get the Lore and Lars interaction right - and then with the Data and Counselor Troi thing. I still don't know if I succeeded. Let me know what you thought if you could. Obviously there's going to be a degree of uncertainty regarding the plot because I've left it ambiguous on purpose (at this point), but I hope it will move along from here. Also thank you for the reviews and I hope you continue to enjoy it! Also sorry that this chapter was so long, I just wanted both of these sections in the same bit.  
><em>


	11. Justice

Data regained conscious awareness and immediately checked his chronometer. Twelve hours had passed since he last had control over his cognitive processes. His checked his processing systems were intact. They were, though his emotion chip was still wired to the crude circuit the Betazoid had devised. His emotion chip was linked to his visual cortex and in turn his somatosensory cortex. This then looped back to the emotion chip. It was not active, however, since a voltage was being prevented from being run through it via a short circuit.

He felt his somatosensory cortex reacting to sensory inputs from his arms, legs, and body. Indeed, when Data looked down he found his previously disembodied head attached to his limbs, wearing his Starfleet uniform as before, and lying on a metal operating stretcher. His arms and legs were strapped to the table and reinforced with titanium plates. He did not have enough room to produce the force necessary to break through it.

He was in the same room as before. The lighting was similar as registered 12 hours ago, though approximately thirty percent dimmer.

Counselor Troi was sitting by his side as if by a hospital bed, and the male Betazoid was standing on his right, pulling black gloves off his hands. The man caught Data's eye and gave him a weak smile.

'After much deliberation, Deanna Troi has convinced me to try a diplomatic approach. It appears we have reached an impasse, Commander Data. I apologize for not anticipating this situation sooner.'

Data rest his head back on the operating table with a dull clunk.

'In that case,' Data began. 'I would like to know who I am speaking to, for Starfleet records.'

'I am Tewa Sakei,' the Betazoid replied. He dropped his gloves on the table behind him and put his hands behind his back.

'And your rank?' Data queried.

'I am engineer on this ship, the ship being a transport vessel we have named the Fade.'

'Very well,' Data said. 'I am recording this interaction as per Federation protocol. I hope do you not object.'

Engineer Sakei looked at Troi. Then Sakei nodded at Data.

'That will do,' Sakei waited a beat. 'Data, the Fade has captured you because we desire to use you as an experiment subject for a new circuit we have devised. That circuit involves your emotion chip as you may have noticed. That is no coincidence. We need your verbal feedback because we cannot easily verify your experiences based on observation of the neural activity alone. That is the hard problem of consciousness, as I'm sure you're aware. As to why we feel this is necessary…' Sakei examined Data's attentive gaze before continuing. 'See, the Betazoid resistance reject androids as a new race. We believe it cannot be a new race if it is being filled with people from many races. We feel it would more appropriately fall under the definition of a culture. We see transference being used to improve upon races that already exist. Humans are able to undergo transference, so are Vulcan, so are Ferengi. Races such as these that can benefit from the physical and intellectual advancement associated with becoming android and are quick to take advantage of the technology to become part of android culture. With this in mind, we believe the Betazoid are at a distinct disadvantage. We feel the technology is being used to benefit those who more closely match humans than those who do not. In other words, our unique Betazoid abilities are not transferred into the android body, yet humans, Vulcans, Ferengi, even Klingon do not have such demands. We are disadvantaged through transference and yet they are not. It is inherently racist.'

'It is only racist if you accept that androids are a culture,' Data retorted. His eyes made visual saccades as he accessed his internal databanks. 'It would be foolish to deny that there is no culture around transference, but _I_ am not a culture. I am a new species, one whose biology is mechanical in nature. You could consider those who undergo transference as changing species –'

'But for all practical purposes that is not what is happening!' Sakei snapped. 'Commander Data, me and a few other Betazoid approached Dr Maddox about nine years ago, a year after transference was introduced to the Federation. See, the issue is that a Betazoid who wished to undergo transference would have to sacrifice their telepathy and empathic powers. Those communication chips of yours do not approximate our abilities. Our level empathy and telepathy must be maintained through transference for us to maintain who we are at a fundamental level. Currently, they do not. Transference may as well destroy us.'

He took a deep breath and continued. 'Nine years ago, Dr Maddox denied our request to let us develop a Betazoid chip for our private uses.' The engineer sighed. 'In response, we have borrowed you for our experiments. We want to try and develop a new circuit – a new chip – to approximate Betazoid telepathic and empathic abilities. We want to make the technology available for those androids who were once Betazoid to respect our culture and heritage. We need your cooperation to do that.'

'You fail to address my point. Your proposal is not fair,' Data asserted. 'To undergo transference is to sacrifice your previous way of being. Regardless of the gains one may make there are inevitable losses. That it should occur more prominently for the Betazoid than other races is an unfortunate coincidence associated with the procedure.'

'Data, listen to yourself,' Counselor Troi began. 'By agreeing with Dr Maddox you are denying us a fundamental part of our beings – _our_ powers.'

'We are not denying you anything, Counselor. You are welcome to continue living as a Betazoid woman. You are not required to become an android.'

'But Data-'

'No,' Data said sharply. 'As prominent as transference has become, it is not the future of all races you paint it to be. It is the future of an android race. It is its own entity. Therefore, your desire to interfere with that status quo for the sake of your own culture is irrelevant.'

'But then why deny us the ability to improve androids?' Sakei began, trying to take another route. 'Dr Maddox currently holds all the blueprints and rights over the technology. He decides what technologies get approved. It creates a monopoly on the market. It is unfair.'

'The monopoly on the technology is due to a legal restriction with a good ethical foundation behind it,' Data began. 'The technology approved by Dr Maddox for androids is available freely to all androids. It is not restricted on a race-by-race basis. Once android, there is no true race to distinguish oneself regardless of what aesthetic changes you may wish to make to your appearance. If Dr Maddox allowed some technological advancements to become available to specific androids, it would be dangerous. It would be unfair. We come back to the issue of fairness. We, as androids, exist to serve the good of the Federation, to serve humanity. Power for its own sake for specific people as you are describing goes against the very foundation of my creation, against the beliefs of the people who have become androids. In addition, I believe it goes against Dr Noonian Soong's dream, and I believe it goes against the Prime Directive of interfering with other cultures. Remember, Counselor, we have a responsibility to be tolerant of other cultures and races, and to view all living creatures – even androids – as equal. Androids with invasive telepathic and empathic powers as you are describing would instil inequality in our race. It would be a wrongful interference with our development.'

'But this isn't about power,' Counselor Troi retorted. 'This is about respecting our way of being – our existence! What about _our_ equality, Data?'

'The Federation regards Betazoid as equals with androids,' Data said curtly.

The silence that filled the room was uncomfortable, the tension thick. Data narrowed his brows and turned his head to look at Counselor Troi. He considered her outright refusal of the Prime Directive baffling. Had she not lived under such a guiding principle for well over a decade? It was out of character. Was she aware of the meaning of her actions?

'I am disappointed at your behaviour, Counselor,' Data said softly. 'I understand that many years ago on board the Enterprise you experienced the loss of your powers, however temporary it was, while the ship was trapped in a fleet of two dimensional beings. You always used your telepathic and empathic powers for good, to improve your ability to connect with clients. I can understand that it was difficult for you when you lost your abilities. However, to try and enforce access to the neural net of every android against their will, or to try and create a device to gain access to human emotions and feelings in a fashion similar to how Betazoid interact with humans but with the intellectual capacity and speed of an android, is unacceptable. You cannot maintain Betazoid uniqueness as an android. All races must make sacrifices to become equal as androids. Are you aware that you are going against the Prime Directive by asserting this position?'

Counselor Troi put her head in her hands. It was rare for Data to feel disappointment in someone, but the sinking feeling in his chest told him that this was one of those rare occasions. Not being Betazoid himself, Data considered it impossible for him to completely understand the Betazoid resistance's position, but it did not stop him from imagining it. He was not impressed with what he imagined.

'I hope you are ready for potential reprimand from Starfleet for aiding in terrorist activities, Counselor,' Data said sternly.

The Counselor didn't catch Data's eye.

'If this is how you feel,' the Betazoid engineer began. 'Then I will have to find a way to program you to obey me. We don't need Dr Maddox's help to create the perfect Betazoid program. I refuse to stand by and let the Betazoid fall behind in this great technological advancement. We've worked hard to prepare for this. I didn't specialise in cybernetics after five long years at the Academy to be simply brushed aside.'

Data opened his mouth to protest but closed it again. It was clear he could not convince the engineer to change his mind, but perhaps he could convince the Counselor. After all, they had worked together for a good ten years before Data finally transferred to the Selene. Despite her current resolve, she had a history of living by the Prime Directive to confront.

Data turned his head towards the Counselor.

'If you assist the Federation in capturing this ship, they may issue you a less severe punishment for assisting in terrorist activities.'

Data felt his neural net being propped open and saw the shadow of the engineer across his chest as he leaned over the operating table. He did not turn away from Counselor Troi. After all, out of all the people on the ship there was the greatest chance that he could illicit help from her. The threat of losing her powers had nearly made her leave the Enterprise all those years ago, she had even threatened to resign as ship's Counselor. Clearly this issue was one of great importance and emotional value to Troi.

However, why she felt the need to impose such abilities onto androids was beyond him. The only reason for this to rise to prominence was if Counselor Troi herself was considering undergoing transference. If the need was desperate enough, perhaps if her life was threatened in some manner, it might cause her to act in this way. It was the only logical possibility. Data refused to accept the explanation that Troi haphazardly decided to cooperate with terrorists unless she was under severe stress or threat – and not necessarily from the Betazoid resistance. To his regret, he did not have enough information to make a judgement about the cause, but he hoped to find out.

'I do not know what problems have been ailing you recently, Counselor. I must admit I am puzzled by your decision to help in this matter, and I accept that perhaps a great personal need may be driving you toward aiding the Betazoid resistance. However, I formally ask you to reconsider. I ask on my behalf, and on behalf of your colleagues on board the Enterprise. Whatever problem is waiting for you, be it the impending reality of death or great emotional distress, I assure you it does not and should not outweigh the need to have equality and balance within the Federation. It does not outweigh the need for peace amongst all races, including androids.' Data said.

'But Betazoid androids gaining telepathic and empathic abilities does not necessarily equate to an erosion of peace in the Federation!' Troi snapped finally, her voice wavering.

Counselor Troi looked up from her lap to stare at the android strapped to the operating table. Data saw the glimmers of despair and frustration in her eyes. Tears threatened to fall down her face. Perhaps she already had been silently crying into her hands. That her cheeks were glistening seemed to provide enough evidence to support that hypothesis.

'The problem in that statement is that you say "Betazoid androids" and not "androids",' Data said calmly, in what he hoped was a convincing tone. 'We are not a conglomerate race, Counselor. We are a single race. It would be incorrect to divide it in the manner you are suggesting.'

He felt a cord being connected to his positronic brain and he felt the beginnings of Sekai's code being programmed into his neural net. As he felt helplessness becoming a louder and louder presence in his neural net, he focused on his goal - trying to change Counselor Troi's mind. He felt his neural net assimilate the code Tewa Sekai was uploading into his positronic brain. He knew he only had a few seconds remaining before the programming took effect.

'I ask you again. Please reconsider your position.'

* * *

><p><em>AN: I really hope I did this chapter justice. Pun not entirely unintended._


	12. Polywater

Tsar sat at his post on the bridge, his long straggly hair draping around his face like curtains. He glanced at Brent who was at the operations post on the opposite side. He was pressing a few buttons on his console.

'Do you believe what the Captain said was true?' Tsar asked through his communication system.

Brent raised his eyes from the console to look at Tsar. 'I think if our Captain had any intention of telling his reasons then he would have done so already. In other words, I don't think it's any of our business if what he told us was true or not.'

Tsar crossed his arms across his chest. 'Perhaps…'

Tsar cleared his throat and spoke out loud. 'Are you two looking forward to being back on Omicron Theta?'

He was referring to Brent and Veneer, who were the only current occupants of the bridge.

'I am,' Brent said. 'It'll be good to be home again. Besides, there is something I need to check.'

'What's that?' Tsar asked.

Brent's eyes moved back to the console. 'Oh, I was going to see if I could revive Rin.'

'The Bajoran?' Tsar asked. 'The Bajoran who had disguised herself as a human in that escape pod we found on Skareth-2?'

'That is correct, Tsar,' Brent said softly. 'I think her death was premature. I think she could have lead a happy life once she had adjusted to life on Omicron Theta.'

'I doubt the transference officers will accept that as a reason for reviving her, but you're welcome to try,' Tsar said, shrugging. 'What about you, Veneer?'

Veneer shrugged. 'I have no special reason to return to Omicron Theta. I suppose I could take shore leave. Why?'

Tsar groaned, putting his hands behind his head. 'I think this is all very tedious. I'm eager to have this Betazoid problem solved.'

'There isn't anybody on Omicron Theta you want to see?'

'I guess I wouldn't mind seeing Lars falling into shambles over his marriage,' Tsar sneered, before laughing loudly.

'You are a horrible person,' Brent sighed, exasperated. He swung his chair around to face Tsar. 'So what you're saying is that you just want to get back to our mission?'

'Of course,' Tsar said. 'This is just disrupting our progress.'

'If you're so bored why don't you go help Lars in engineering?' Brent queried. 'You could help develop an anti-purple phaser shield or something.'

'Maybe I will,' Tsar said. 'But if he doesn't want my help I'll go to the bar.'

He got to his feet and left the bridge. Brent sighed once he had disappeared into the nearest turbolift and shook his head faintly.

'So, Veneer… Guess it's just you and me, huh?'

Veneer nodded slowly. He rubbed the knuckles of each hand together, making a soft clicking sound as they clipped each other.

'Anything you want to talk about?' Brent queried.

'You're not ship counsellor,' Veneer observed.

'I could be qualified as one if I wanted.'

'Why aren't you?'

'I suppose I find the prospect of coddling my fellow crewmates a little strange. To me, that sort of behaviour should be reserved for close friends or lovers.'

'Like Rin, you mean,' Veneer drawled. He cleared his throat loudly. 'Do you love her?'

'You could say I'm intrigued with the idea of her.'

Veneer grunted. The two spent several minutes in silence. After a few minutes, Veneer scowled and smacked his console with his fists.

'I am so bored! I have never had to wait around without a project for this long. And there's still one and a half days left until we arrive.'

'You could help Lars with making a purple phaser shield,' Brent ventured. 'I hear that's all the rage these days.'

Veneer shook his head. 'He can do it on his own. To be honest, I don't want to work right now.' He paced back and forth at his post. 'As much as I don't like leaving the bridge unmanned, would you be willing to keep an eye on things up here? I want to spend some time in my quarters.'

'Not the Holodeck? I'm surprised.'

Veneer locked his console pad. 'Yes. Lieutenant Commander Lars suggested I engage in creative pursuits. He said it might help me control … my emotions.'

Brent swivelled around and watched Veneer walk stiffly towards turbolift one. His eyebrow rose.

'Emotions?'

* * *

><p>Lore forced entry into Data's quarters and examined the empty room. On the table was Data's violin. Lore found it hard to believe his First Officer had been playing it only twelve hours ago. Lore's fingers picked up the instrument and placed it under his chin. He plucked the bow off the table and dragged the horsetails across the strings, his fingers pressing down on them to change the note.<p>

As he played, he got the distinct impression that something was wrong. Removing the instrument from under his chin, he examined that sensation more closely. He felt he was invading Data's privacy. Lore's face scrunched up with disgust and confusion, bewilderment. When did he become so concerned with Data's privacy?

Lore carefully placed the violin back onto the table into the exact position it had been originally. A nervous smile crossed his face. He had become concerned with Data's privacy the moment he admitted the communication chip had been a problem. He had become concerned when he realized he was willing to take steps to make Data trust him.

Lore crossed the room and stood by the window. Data had stood in that exact spot playing his violin over twelve hours ago now, playing that romantic, mournful tune. The Captain's eyes scanned the stars flitting past outside. A few asteroid belts could be seen blinking away in the distance near a pulsar.

There was still over a day until they arrived at Omicron Theta. So far, it had been a long trip. The crew of the Selene, himself included, was not accustomed to not working for long periods of time. Given their inability to feel fatigued they often worked over-time, all the time. It was a schedule they had been satisfied with, but one that lead to little self-reflection and respite.

Lore reflected on his crew. Other than Lars, could he say the crew really needed respite? Androids were perfectly capable of performing self-reflection alongside their duties, but he knew respite was conductive for good mental health.

Lore shook his head and turned away from the window. Absentmindedly, he walked into Data's bedroom. The android's bed was perfectly made without a single crease in the fabric. Lore's mouth twitched into a smile. It contrasted with his own bedroom habits. He felt human customs such as keeping a bedroom clean were a waste of his precious time. He would often abandon such pursuits in favour of performing analyses on new data or being on the bridge, looking for new planets to examine.

Lore's fingers touched the end of the bed sheets. They were dark blue, a colour Lore didn't know Data had among his bedding selection. Lore suddenly felt his gut clench, and he was reminded of those words "concern" and "privacy". Lore removed himself from the bedroom, but found his insides still twisting at the sight of the violin on the table.

He remembered how curt Data had been with him when he had told him that bad behaviour would not be tolerated in his quarters.

Bad behaviour, Lore thought, like snooping, perhaps?

Lore took a few large steps backwards until the automated doors hissed open behind him and his back was flat against the wall outside. His breath became fog as he did so, life support in the corridors at absolute minimum compared to the crew quarters. Lore resisted his urge to snoop around in Data's quarters with some effort, and forced himself to walk to Bar Nine.

He thought about his crew again, something nagging him about it. Veneer was another android whose behaviour had become erratic as of late. Veneer had hesitated and got Data injured on the enemy ship.

Lars was not the only culprit. What about Tsar and Brent?

Lore entered a turbolift and instructed it to take him to the bar.

No, Tsar and Brent seemed sane enough.

Lore remembered Veneer's query about Data. Lore had assured Veneer that Data was sane, and yet Lore had yelled at Data hours prior for being unreasonable. And Data had done the same to him. Were the two of them insane? Lore chortled over the hum of the turbolift, shaking his head. Being unreasonable did not equate insanity. Insanity was Lars's problem – he was the one hearing voices in his own head.

The turbolift came to a stop and Lore entered Bar Nine.

His boots slipped against the icy floor, but he was able to keep his grip easily enough.

Lore approached the bar and spread his fingers against the replicator plates that were freezing to the touch. He ran his hands over them like – Lore paused. He was about to make a comparison between running his hands along replicator plates and running his hands along _Data's back_. Without meaning to, an old memory came to mind. Data was lying face down on his quarter's floor, naked from the waist up, and Lore was sitting sideways on his lower back, fully dressed in a black uniform. Lore had peered down with amusement at Data's face that was pressed into the floor, his eyes closed as if in a dream. Lore had ran a hand from his lower back, up the cold smooth skin that coated his back, to the nape of his neck.

Lore retracted his hands from the replicator plates and placed them on his knees, clenching them tightly.

'Computer, I request ale,' Lore told it. 'With a high-dose polywater additive.'

As the glass appeared, Lore's fingers wrapped around it, the amber liquid inviting. He drank it, the liquid burning his throat and making it tingle. It was not an unpleasant tingle, but a comforting one. It warmed his body from the inside out. As thoughts of Data came to his mind, Lore felt as if his stomach had been filled with rocks, weighing him down.

Lore's facial tic crossed his features. He ordered another ale from the replicator.

He downed that too. Soon, his neural net was hit by the deleterious and mind-numbing effects of the polywater drug.

As his motor functions slowed and his cognitive circuits became hampered by the drug, Lore found his mind floating into a blissful blackness. His body felt warm, as if he weren't on the Selene but perhaps a more temperature friendly ship like the Enterprise.

Lore drank his third ale and the glass bounced out of his hand and onto the replicator plates. A large crack formed down the middle of the glass, the remnants of ale staining the sides a golden brown colour. Lore eyed it with a dopey, drunken smile and pressed down on a broken fragment with his finger. The glass shook against the pressure.

He thought about Data, and he thought about how Data was no longer on the Selene. One emotion Lore found difficult to cope with was guilt, and his increasing stupor was allowing small shreds of guilt to enter his conscious mind, weighing him down with increasing stubbornness. Lore had a vision of Data being taken by the Betazoid, disappearing with a flash of light in front of his very eyes. Lore's voice was soft, barely audible.

'I am sorry… dear brother…'

His finger gave way against the glass and it snapped. A small fragment hit Lore in the face and clung to his skin like ice. The rest collapsed under the pressure and clattered against the replicator plates. He stared at the replicator plates as if transfixed, hypnotised. One part of his neural net became obsessed with the broken glass, and brought up memories of Lore throwing glass at Data from across his quarters, and the other part of his neural net was replaying the image of Data being taken from him by the Betazoid intruder in the corridor - of Data disappearing in a flash of white light. He saw it over and over again.

The more his neural net focused on it, the heavier his body felt. The more he wanted to drink. The more he wanted to forget about it all. How could he have put one of his crew in jeopardy like he did for some stupid selfish desire to be closer to them?

Lore shook his head and pressed his finger down into the replicator plates. A few shards of glass got caught into the end of his finger. Lore merely looked at them as if he had caught ants and was examining the tiny insects for a juvenile science experiment.

Lore spoke to the glass, his words joining dragging vowels longer than necessary with a slur.

'Forgive your stoopid brother Lore for getting youu into this mess… I promise I'll make it up to you… somehow… one daye…'

His head dropped into his arms, his shoulders shaking with a laugh of helplessness and despair. It was a kind of laugh that was so soft and weak that it saps the energy of all who hear it. After a few minutes of breathing in the leftover vapours of the ale, he heard the doors to Bar Nine hiss open.

Lore's eyes were red and tinged with wetness as he caught sight of Lieutenant Commander Tsar in the doorway. Lore hurriedly rubbed his face on the side of his red Starfleet uniform, and he laughed loudly and hiccupped at the sight of Tsar, perhaps trying to draw his attention away from his dishevelled appearance.

'Get out of my sight, Tsar. You don't need to see your Captain drunk.'

'This is a public place, sir,' Tsar said curtly.

Lore's shoulders stopped shaking and his smile fell when he realised Tsar was not about to leave. He felt rage and irritation erupt from within.

'You dare disobey your Captain? Go! Get out!'

Lieutenant Commander Tsar, however, did something entirely unexpected. He sat down at the chair on Lore's right and stared at him. Lore's eyes unfocused and focused again on his subordinate officer. Tsar's face was so serious he could have been mistaken for Commander Data. Lore's cheek twitched. No, he wasn't Data. He was just seeing Data everywhere.

'Your presence is not welcome, Lieutenant Commander,' Lore said smoothly, his lips twitching into a snarl.

Suddenly, there was a loud clap. Lore's fist met the side of Tsar's face. The android was thrown out of his seat. Lore got to hit feet, his centre of gravity wavering. His picked up his boot and pressed it into Tsar's head, his long locks of hair obscuring his face.

'If you apologize I might forgive you for what you saw tonight.'

'I will not apologize,' Tsar hissed into the floor. 'You're hiding something about Commander Data.'

'Such a stubborn officer,' Lore scowled. He gave Tsar a mighty kick in the chest. The android crawled to his feet, his hand across his chest. Tsar did not leave the bar, but continued to address him.

'You must be upset that the Commander is gone. Do you want to talk about it, Captain?'

'It is none of your business, Lieutenant Commander,' Lore muttered. His fingers shook. He clumsily pressed a few buttons on the replicator plates. In a split second a new drink appeared. He sculled it down in an instant, and then got to his feet. 'I am returning to my quarters. Carry on with whatever you were doing.'

Lore brushed the broken glass out of the way and pulled a few glass fragments out of his finger, letting them drop to the floor like bread crumbs. Staggering, he walked along a wobbly line and nearly tripped over his own feet. He clutched the side of the Bar Nine doors and closed his eyes, exhaling deeply. The automatic doors threatened to close, but he held them open.

Lore began his intoxicated walk back to his quarters, his mind filling with images of Data. Lore's throat hurt as he imagined Data by his side, walking with him.

'Lore, if you continue to consume polywater at the rate you are currently you may cease to function,' Data said to him. Lore imagined Data hoisting his arm over his shoulder and assisted him to walk, carrying much of his weight while Lore dragged his feet. 'Do not worry, brother. We will be home soon. Then you may rest.'

Lore was half unconscious as he walked into the turbolift and exited it again on a new deck. His conscious awareness kept flitting in and out like a strobe light. His eyes narrowed. He tried to trace the frosted lights along the walls, the darkness shrouding his journey back to his quarters. His fingers slipped against the ice like a blind man trying to guide his way through the dark. The corridors were abandoned. Lore's boots stomped in an uneven rhythm.

As he entered his quarters and walked to the bedroom, he collapsed onto the bed. His eyes squinted open, his head spinning into oblivion. His fingers shaking, he grasped thick blankets and pulled them around his body. His head, heavy and dizzy, sunk into the soft pillow.

Lore kicked off his boots. Then his sock-covered feet met his boots, large hard lumps at the end of the bed. He knocked them off the side. They hit the floor with a thud.

Before he drifted into unconsciousness, he caught sight of the coloured bed sheets and had a vague thought that they were not his own.

They were dark blue…

* * *

><p><em>AN: I must confess, my honours thesis is due tomorrow (aka year-long research project). The last few weeks I've been writing so much fanfiction because I've had a lot of creative energy that wasn't being put to use (as my thesis was being reviewed by my supervisor, and now advisor). Here's hoping the work will pay off!  
><em>

_I've missed writing fanfiction, though. I really appreciate people's reviews and honesty. I hope the silence from the last 7 or so chapters is due to subdued interest rather than the uneasy silence of "oh god, what is she doing, the characterisation/story got really bad suddenly". If it is the latter though I'd appreciate knowing. I really appreciate the continued interest in the story though and reviews. I think it's such a shame there aren't more Lore/Data fanfictions, even just exploring their relationship further (the best I've seen around is Ascent). As I hope my stories illustrate, there is A LOT that can be done with some of the technology barely touched upon in TNG... Like Ira Graves's research (which I turned into 'transference') and the Borg situation Lore got into which gave rise to the communication chips - those chips were pretty much in use in the episodes Decent I and II... Lore pretty much brainwashes Data there. Descent I and II were fun episodes to watch and had lots of possibilities. _

_For those curious, my honours project is in psychology officially but is a collaborative project with the neuroscience department. I use EEG (electroencephalography) to try and figure out how a certain aspect of the visual cortex works. But I won't bore you with the details. Fingers crossed for a H1 (first class) which is pretty much required for postgraduate study. I have applied to a PhD program in neuroscience. Now if only I could do research on the Enterprise that would really be the icing on the cake._


	13. Rin

Brent watched the stars flit past on the bridge view screen. The ceiling lights were dimmed, the result being that the console lights glowed like Christmas lights in the evening. Brent's gaze steadily tracked the planets and stars that whooshed past, finding it hypnotising. The Selene continued at maximum warp. His fingers darted across his console pad, running diagnostics on the Selene's inbuilt communication system by Lore's request.

As a large orange planet rolled by the display, the Soong android thought about Rin. Skareth-2 was also orange from a distance, homage to its deserts.

Rin...

Brent knew he had no logical reason for his infatuation with the woman, especially letting it continue since she was dead. The only reason he could devise was a pathetic and naïve one – Rin was the only woman he had ever been in close contact with. The prospect of interacting with a humanoid that wasn't an android had intrigued him, though it was a cautious and subdued interest. Perhaps it was only natural that it should develop into a romantic interest.

Although Brent enjoyed the solitude offered by the Selene and the unique dangers offered by away missions such as abnormal gravity fields, noxious environments, and passive or aggressive non-intelligent life forms, there was something to be said for being in contact with non-android humanoids.

Skareth-2 was a class H planet. This meant it was a lifeless wasteland with an atmosphere unbreathable to humans. It had oxygen, but it was also filled with heavy metal vapours. It had an extremely hot surface temperature of seventy degrees Celcius.

Brent remembered that two years ago, Tsar had beamed down with him to Skareth-2 two after receiving a distress signal. They were in communication with the bridge through their chips. They appeared on a flat, arid rocky surface. The ground had been a deep red ochre colour, made of dehydrated iron oxide.

The moment the androids had beamed onto the surface, the frost that had coated their skin melted immediately giving them the appearance of being covered in sweat. Brent pulled out a tricorder and scanned in a three-hundred-and-sixty degree radius. He stopped and pointed to his right, to the east.

'The escape pod is cloaked. Over that way. There are three life signs inside.'

'A bit crowded for an escape pod.'

The androids ran to the cloaked vessel, Brent's tricorder beeping as they got closer. Once they had arrived, Tsar pulled a small black spherical device out of his pocket. He pulled a wire from the end and secured it to the invisible object. After a few seconds there was a loud whirr and the escape pod appeared. It was the size of a coffin, though shaped like a smoothed opal.

'Set up life support in medical bay one,' Brent transmitted to the ship. He heard Lieutenant Commander Lars's response.

'Done.'

'Two to beam up directly to sick bay with the escape pod,' Tsar continued Brent's line of thought.

Once the two androids and the escape pod had beamed into sick bay, the escape pod was forced open with a laser-cutter. Under the dimmed fluorescence of the ceiling lights, the escape pod yawned open. Tsar ripped the door from the hinges and tossed it aside with a loud crash.

Two female humanoids and one male were lying in the escape pod, sweating, their faces flushed. The male was unconscious. All three of their bodies were draped in ragged grey one-piece uniforms.

As Brent kneeled to scan each of them with the tricorder, Tsar leaned and used hypospray on each of them.

'Heat stroke,' Tsar murmured. 'Severe dehydration. Syncope from low blood pressure.'

He was about to use the hypospray on the last awake women but before Brent could scan her, she scrambled to her feet. She held a knife in her hand. Her body swayed and her limbs shook with the effort of holding herself up.

Brent only had a few split seconds to take in her features, but as an android it was all he needed. She had bright blue eyes and short black hair – a pixie hair cut. Her body was lithe and her skin pale.

'Die, Romulan spies!' she screeched.

Brent did not react when she threw herself at him. He knew any excessive force on his part could injure her.

The knife penetrated a few millimetres in the side of his face by his right sideburn, and sliced down to his mouth, shaking in the woman's grip. The knife made a snapping and crunching sound against the bioplast sheeting. The woman jumped back in alarm as sparks emanated from the wound. With a yank she pulled the tip of the knife out of Brent's face.

The android stared at her with an amused smile. He raised his arms in way of surrender.

The woman held the knife in front of her in a battle stance, her eyes darting across the android's face. As Brent spoke, glimpses of metal could be seen through his sliced face.

'We're not Romulan spies. We are crewmates of the Selene, a Federation ship. We are your allies,' Brent urged. 'We picked up your distress call. I am Lieutenant Commander Brent. Who are you?'

The woman threw the knife back into the escape pod. It clattered against the base. Her blue eyes showed weakness, though her voice was firm.

'I see you are not human. You do not bleed. Your eyes… Your skin…' she whispered, hurridly. 'What are you?'

'I am an android,' Brent said. 'The Selene is the only all-android vessel in the Federation.'

'Hm.'

Suddenly, her fingers scratched at the upper half of her nose and she peeled off a skin-toned flap of rubber. What had appeared to be a smoothed nose ridge was underneath horizontal ridges.

'I am Bajoran. My name is Rin. My crew and I were attacked by Romulans. We managed to escape. Skareth-2 was the nearest planet.'

'What were you being transported for?' Brent queried.

'That is not your business, robot.' Her eyes scanned the wound on Brent's face with a glare. She suddenly heaved a deep breath. She gazed to Tsar to Brent.

'Are you twins?'

Tsar suddenly pushed the hypospray into Rin's neck. Her body collapsed in his arms. She was pulled onto a bed like the others. Brent's arms dropped.

'She needs rest.' Tsar said. 'We could return them to the Bajoran but given they were attacked it might be best to speak to Starfleet about this before returning them.'

'I think it would be safer to speak with Starfleet,' Brent murmured. His ruined face split into a small smile, his fingers touching the face wound.

* * *

><p>Rin woke in a soft bed, her body aching with weakness. She pushed the blankets off her, looking around the room. She caught her breath in her throat, her focus fuzzing out of awareness. After recovering, she noted she was in basic crew quarters.<p>

Recognising the replicator she approached it and spoke. Instead of providing her with food, however, the replicator was non-responsive. Suddenly, the doors to her quarters hissed opened and the robot named Brent entered. He stopped his stern walk, noticing Rin was awake. He pointed at the replicator.

'I just came in to fix it for you. We had rerouted the electricity away from any unused rooms.' He approached the replicator and pulled off the bottom grating. He pressed a series of buttons in quick sequence. He cleared his throat, turning to glance at the woman, his fingers still moving across the button pad. 'You might find yourself feeling a bit dizzy and weak. You have symptoms of anaemia. You seem to have lost a lot of blood from a recent wound in your arm.'

Rin's hand grasped her upper left arm and squeezed gently. Thinking of wounds, Rin eyed the cheek where she had attacked him, but the wound had since healed. 'You must have very efficient engineers on this ship for your face to have been repaired so quickly.'

'Hm? We do have a good engineer but they did not restore my bioplast sheeting. The wound was regenerated with special nano-drones that live among our neural nets through a type of symbiotic relationship. Our Captain developed them based off Borg technology.'

'Impressive…' Rin murmured.

As Brent stepped back from the replicator, she turned towards the replicator and requested a glass of water at ten degrees celcius. She took several large gulps of the beverage and frowned meekly. It had the blandness of replicator water, but would be sufficient to rehydrate.

'I must admit, my knowledge of cybernetics is limited, I have not been keeping up with that field. But if the Federation has managed to get a hold of Borg technology then I cannot help but be intrigued, although I question its safety,' she paused.

Brent was standing next to the replicator with a mild expression.

'When will I be returned to the Bajoran? It is imperative that I get to my destination as soon as possible.'

'My Captain is taking us to Omicron Theta, our home world, in order to hand you over to Starfleet,' Brent explained. 'We have been away from any starbases for three years straight. We are low on supplies and our weapons are in dire need of repair. In other words, we do not have the resources to deliver you safely back, particularly if Romulan war birds are waiting.'

Rin finished the drink and put the glass on the replicator.

'You won't let my guards and I take a shuttle ship out to our designated coordinates?'

'If your transport ship did not survive the Romulan attack I find it highly doubtful a shuttleship will,' Brent explained. 'In other words, no.'

Rin looked at the robot up and down, her lips pursing into a straight line. The yellow eyes and golden skin seemed devoid of all things she knew as humanoid. What could a conglomeration of metal possibly know of duties or feelings? What could it understand of her mission? There was a risk involved and she was willing to take it – she had been travelling in a Bajoran transport ship for Prophet's sake!

'Then I am to be your prisoner. A prisoner on a ship of metal things.'

'Things?' Brent queried, his eyebrows made his forehead crease. 'We are androids. We are people. I am no more a thing than you are.'

Rin head towards the door. The sliding doors hissed open.

Liar! A _person_ would consider her request more seriously instead of adhering to Starfleet safety protocols so tightly! Homage to the inflexibility of their kind, no doubt. What could have driven Starfleet to let a single ship be run by robots? Surely that was an inflexible way to run a vessel?

Rin looked left and right down the corridors. Brent appeared by her side, apparently keen to fulfil a duty as body guard.

'Where are my crew?' Rin demanded. 'I must speak with them.'

'They are resting at the moment in the adjacent rooms. I estimate they will wake in three hours. Humans are not as physiologically stable as Bajoran are. '

'You flatter me, robot.'

'Android is the most accurate term,' Brent smiled faintly. 'Is this your Bajoran distrust kicking in or do you genuinely dislike androids?'

'It could be both.'

Brent remembered feeling astonished at the woman's insistence that he was a thing and not a person. At the time he found her an intellectual curiosity. Certainly he felt mildly insulted, but he could not justly hold that against her for long. Androids had only rose to prominence in the Federation five or seven before, after all. Perhaps it was her lack of contact with androids that made her prejudice so rigid. It was that desire that had driven him to bring her to Omicron Theta. Perhaps with greater exposure to his kind she might feel more comfortable.

Brent's fingers rest on top of his console, his eyes turning downcast to look at the back of his right hand. The pale gold skin glowed against the console.

He couldn't have been more wrong. Unfortunately, by the time he realized it, it had been too late to make amends. Lore had approved him bringing Rin down to the planet for respite, seeing it as an innocent enough request, but neither of them could have anticipated her reaction.

Brent had been sitting at a small square table in one of the food courts on Omicron Theta, people bustling about carrying trays of replicated food around him. The smell of lasagne wafted into Brent's olfactory sensors as Rin carried a ridged bowl full of the Italian meal in front of her. Brent was holding a silver cup in his hand. It contained a chocolate milkshake. Made with fresh ingredients, he recorded the ratio of milk to ice cream and syrup to educate the replicator on the Selene later. It was a vastly improved combination compared to the generic blue-print on the Selene.

Rin's small blue eyes darted up to Brent's face, then back to her meal. Brent's smile was wide as he watched her stab the cheesy layer with her fork and scoop it into her mouth.

Why was watching a Bajoran eat lasagna so amusing? Perhaps it was because she had been so serious. Lasagna was messy- it seemed out of character. Then again, he considered, he may have simply not understood her character.

Steam ushered forth from the bowl. As the cheese hit her tongue the Bajoran held a hand over her mouth. She put the fork down.

'Too hot?' Brent queried. He held the milkshake towards her.

The Bajoran stared at him for several long seconds. She blew onto the food, not accepting his invitation.

'You don't want to talk to me, do you? Is it because I brought you here?' Brent asked. His tongue wrapped around the pink plastic straw and drew the refreshing drink into his mouth. She took a bite of lasagne and continued to eat, apparently deciding that it was now a tolerable temperature. 'But you do not object to listening to me, I know that much, or you would be somewhere else.'

The Bajoran woman raised an eyebrow, her gaze suddenly becoming serious. Brent's hands wrapped around the base of his cup. He raised his eyebrows in what he hoped was an encouraging look.

'The man who served me at the bar looked just like you,' she began, twirling her fork into a pile of meat and cheese. 'Just how many of you are there on this planet?'

The Soong android chuckled.

'More than you might expect,' Brent started. 'In the beginning most of the androids looked like me – or like a youthful Dr Noonian Soong, I should say - but people soon got tired of that and started making androids with unique appearances. I can estimate that 95% of the people here are, in fact, androids, based on their heat signatures. My appearance and that of the Selene crew is simply homage to the fact that we were created before the others.'

The Bajoran women balanced her fork onto her lasagna and picked up the knife. She cut it into slices, mixing the white sauce and beef-tomato mixture together. More steam. The muscles in her jaw tightened and she continued cutting and mixing her lasagna together. Her eyebrows furrowed together as if disturbed by something.

'What's wrong?' Brent asked her. He reached out to her across the table, in a gesture of good-will. Rin's eyes widened in alarm.

She stabbed her knife through the back of Brent's hand. Sparks shot from his hand as the knife penetrated through bioplast sheeting, metal, and the table. The android didn't wince. His fingers wrapped around the base of it. He spoke, sounding exasperated, as if to a toddler throwing a temper tantrum.

'Come on, don't be like that.'

He pulled out the knife and offered it to her, wiping residue tomato off the back of his hand with a serviette. The Bajoran did not take the knife, but picked up her fork instead and stuffed her face with food, swallowing noisily.

'You wanted to know why I insisted on calling you robot or metal thing earlier. Well, truth be told, I do not understand how my people could possibly be open to the Federation creating such a race as you. Why haven't there been protests or riots?' the woman said, in between gulps. She was eating as if she hadn't consumed a decent meal in weeks, though Brent knew she had plenty on board the Selene. 'As an android you are strong, intelligent, and immune to many of the threats and dangers of my race and that of humans…' she paused. 'Does that not strike you as dangerous?'

'Have I ever given you the impression of being dangerous?' Brent asked. 'I have been kind and patient with you. I even brought you here while we waited for your transport ship to be prepared. As for riots and protests, well, there were a few in the beginning but once people got used to being in contact with androids they occurred at a lesser frequency. You may find your attitude change in a similar way.'

'The biggest dangers are covert,' the woman argued, evidently unconvinced by his assertion. 'You robots are like a virus. You replicate and spread like a virus – consuming all you spread.'

'Virus? There are Bajoran androids, you know,' Brent explained. 'Many underwent transference. You wouldn't call your own people a virus, would you?'

The woman's fork clattered against the bowl. 'Underwent what?'

'_Transference_ – it allows any humanoid person to become an android, based on Dr Ira Graves's research. They retain their memories. It is like their consciousness is transfered to a new body. It is a way of improving themselves. It's part of the reason Omicron Theta is bustling with androids. This is where the transference labs are located,' he paused. 'I apologize, I thought you knew about it.'

The Bajoran put her head in her hands. Her knife and fork clattered against her bowl.

'How – why would they do such a thing? And you say improve, as if we are somehow beneath you.' She heaved a sigh, rolling her words around in her head before speaking. 'Androids cannot breed, correct?'

'Yes, that is correct,' Brent said. 'We do not breed in the biological sense. But I fail to see how that is relevant to -'

'Biological breeding is the only true form of breeding there is. A randomisation algorithm to inject diversity in your kind is no match for the true thing, it is only an approximation,' The Bajoran interrupted. Her shoulders heaved and her voice shook, suddenly overwhelmed with emotion. 'How dare you rape my culture with your lifeless mechanical existence?!'

Brent was stunned. He knew the woman had been hesitant to accept his help on the Selene, but accusing him of destroying her culture? Accusing him on the part of all androids? It was ridiculous. He kept his voice calm in the manner he had done on the Selene. He hoped to emulate Commander Data, who seemed especially skilled at staying calm under pressure.

'Rape? There has been no rape. The transference was completely consensual.'

'How will we survive if the only Bajoran left alive cannot reproduce? Do you not understand the danger if this continues? Do you truly not see this as a problem? This transference ritual – this cult - you are eroding the variability of our society – of all Federation societies. Soon all that will be left is your people, your metal culture. And you refuse to admit any similarity between yourself and a virus. You disgust me.'

'The Bajoran population has been flourishing for years since they established themselves on new planets,' Brent retorted, attempting to counter her arguments logically. He drank the last of his milkshake, the straw making an empty sucking noise for several seconds. 'Please… Try to be reasonable. I know it is within the nature of a Bajoran to be distrustful of outside cultures, but they opened up to the Federation to ask for help once. Is transference not an extension of that help? Androids are not a virus – transference is not simply _forced_ upon somebody.'

The woman got to her feet, shaking her head.

'You say 95% of this population is android. I saw many Bajoran as I was coming in – but they're not really Bajoran, are they? They're just built to look like them!' Rin picked up the knife in her hand and held it against her upturned wrist. Her voice quavered, her eyes focused towards the ceiling as if pleading to be rescued – but from what? 'My mission may as well be a failure if Bajoran culture is at such risk… Will my home planet look like Omicron Theta one day? Filled with androids? Is there room for me - my people - in that kind of world?'

Brent's eyes fell upon her wrist. 'You cannot be forced –' he paused. 'Stop.' The Bajoran was slowly pressing the blade into her wrist. Small beads of blood were appearing, the tendons in her arm tightening. 'Wait. Don't do that.' Brent rushed around the table and grabbed her wrist, pulling the knife away from her. 'Enough!'

Their eyes met briefly. Her eyes were filled with tears. Then Rin spat in the android's face. Brent pinned her arms to her sides, the woman squirming in his grip.

'Let go of me, you monster!'

'You call me a monster, yet you ignore all the kindness I've shown you – all the patience? You forget that I am a living creature, you forget that I have feelings – thoughts – and you would so easily forget my crew? We may have the same face but we are not alike! You saw that we were not alike!'

The woman stopped shaking, her eyes fluttering closed. As Brent steadily released her, her body shook again and tears fell down her cheeks and flitted against her dark grey uniform. Brent thought she had finally calmed down, but he was wrong.

Rin ran away through the crowd. Brent tried to chase her but she was much smaller than he was and made it through the humanoid bustle much more simply. He remembered seeing her hands slowly becoming covered in red, and watching specs of blood flitting the floor. He remembered sending the Selene bridge a transmission to beam her up to sick bay while simultaneously pulling out his phaser to stun Rin. But the food court was so crowded and her black head bobbed in and out of view so quickly that it would have been difficult to make a precise shot. It was impossible to get a good lock on her once she had darted into the crowd.

Rin...

Brent's mind jolted back to the bridge. He was aware of being alone, with only the blinking console lights and humming engine to give him company.

He closed his eyes, sighing.

* * *

><p><em>AN: I kinda like Brent, he's one of the more agreeable crew members. Also, submitted my Honours thesis yesterday. It hasn't really sunk in yet because I still feel wired but hopefully it will soon.  
><em>


	14. Interrogation

Data's positronic net was bombarded with new signals from his captor, the Betazoid engineer Tewa Sekai. The android's eyes, darting from side to side, stopped to focus on the Betazoid's face. Suddenly, the android felt his apprehension and resistance to Sekai's plan started to disappear. It trickled gently away. His demeanour became calm and inviting. He accepted that the Betazoid's plan could be used to improve the other Soong androids. Regardless of what Sekai said, Dr Maddox could take control of the technology and make it available to a wider market. Data's mouth twitched into a wide smile. Lore would be pleased with him. After all, he was always looking for lucrative opportunities within the Federation.

Data felt sudden uncertainty.

_You have not sought Lore's approval for a long time. You have not felt the need to please him in any manner other than performing your duties as First Officer until now. What do you have to gain from pleasing Lore at this current time?_

The uncertainty disappeared as quickly as it has arose.

_Dr Maddox will take control of the Betazoid technology and make it available to a wider market. Cooperation is beneficial to me because it supports a message of equality and fairness within the Federation, and is true to the Prime Directive in that the android species is not interfered and segregated into sub-factions for the gain of Betazoid only. This technological feat will reduce tensions between Betazoid and android. We may live in peace once more._

Data felt a warm feeling in his chest.

_In addition, this new technology will be lucrative for Lore and Dr Maddox. This will please Lore.  
><em>

That Data felt the remotest affection for Lore surprised him. But the surprise disappeared too quickly for it to be processed with any depth.

Sekai turned a dial on a machine on his desk. Data felt the electrical signal being sent through the custom circuit reversing polarity.

The painful memory he had sought to suppress came to mind. As it did, he no longer felt his skin crawl as Lore's finger traced a line across his neck, or his insides shudder at the feeling of his breath in his ear. The panic that had gripped him so suddenly in that moment as he had been bound was present in the memory, but Data no longer felt his body reacting like it normally would. He felt calm and collected although the version of himself in the memory was clearly distressed. Although strange, Data could not deny the feelings that bubbled to the surface. A new experience came to mind, an elaborate and specific daydream generated in a few milliseconds.

_Data was sitting in his chair on the bridge of the Selene, pressing a few buttons on his console. The blocky and colourful buttons on the display disappeared and were replaced with a diagram of his body, the front page of a collection of information and knowledge Dr Maddox had accumulated on Soong androids over the previous ten, fifteen years. There was a blinking red light where the emotion chip was located. Data turned to his Captain._

_'Sir, I believe there has been a breach in my emotion chip program. I find myself unable to stop it on my own. Its influence is spreading rapidly across the cortices, but it is focused most heavily at a neural feedback loop between the frontal lobes and emotion chip. If this is true, then if an exterior presence such as yourself were to bring the emotion chip and thus the Borg subspace communication system back online and feed my neural net a new code to override the current alien influence, there is a high possibility that I may be able to regain full control over my emotional and logical sub-systems.'_

_Lore rest his right hand gently on the back of Data's head, his fingernails tracing the near-invisible grooves on his scalp – the positronic network access plates. Data's eyes darted up to gaze at Lore's lips, the bioplast sheeting stretching across his gold mouth._

_'Brother, I would be more than happy to assist you, provided you do me a certain favour,' Lore crooned, his palm slowly stroking the hair on Data's scalp. It was an action at once affectionate and threatening, menacing, but Data felt he was in no danger._

_'A favour, sir?'_

_Lore released his hand from Data's head._

_'I'm sorry, brother, I didn't hear that. What did you say?'_

_A simple glance at Lore's face told Data that he had heard every word. Data then realized what he was suggesting. _

_The word 'brother' brought old memories to mind, memories that Data knew had previously hurt him, wounded him, and not entirely for reasons he could explain. The word brother spoke of a closeness they had once shared, but was no more. That closeness was what Lore desired, and what Data had feared. But the programming he had now been instilled with gave him newfound trust for Lore. Data remembered their most recent encounter where Lore had lamented how Data no longer called him 'brother'. Perhaps that is what he wanted to hear now.  
><em>

_'A favour, brother?'_

_Lore's hand snaked to Data's neck and gave it a gentle squeeze._

_'That's right.'_

Suddenly, Data felt the daydream tear down before his very eyes. Instead of Lore, Data saw Sekai at his workstation, tweaking a few dials on a machine that was running a small electrical signal through the custom-made circuit. Counselor Troi was by him, scanning a large textbook. The polarity changed back.

The daydream he had just experienced was pushed to the back of his mind. The memory of being trapped in the chair on the Holodeck had returned, and it was vivid. Data felt his mouth moving before he could stop himself, but the words flowed out of his mouth like he was speaking casually to his crewmates on the Selene.

'I can tell you about the memory,' Data addressed Sekai. His chin jerked, his motor functions emulating a head movement tic. 'I will endeavour to assist you as best to my ability. This new technology should assist in improving my brother's communication chip. I think he will be pleased with my efforts.'

The Counselor's eyes narrowed at this and she turned to Sekai. 'That isn't the plan – we don't plan on giving the technology to them, do we? Betazoid neural networks associated with telepathy and empathy are secret, sacred to our traditions. We can't simply give it away.'

'We are not giving it away,' the engineer replied, calmly. He leaned over Data's positronic network, squeezing one of the pincers shut. 'He simply thinks we are. This is how I convince him to help, see?' The Betazoid stared appraisingly at the Counselor and patted the woman's cheek with his hand. 'With that said, given we were unable to convince Data to help us willingly, I am afraid I have outlived your usefulness. Computer, end simulation.'

Suddenly, the Counselor disappeared. Data's pupils became large for a few moments, recording the event with clarity. He felt a sensation of surprise before the sensation was snatched away from him and buried somewhere in his neural net.

_Counselor Troi's disappearance is in accordance with my newfound cooperation. There is no reason to be alarmed._

All that was left in the room was the operating table Data was strapped to and a workstation next to it. Sekai stared at Data.

'Give me more details about the memory. Where were you and what were you doing? I need to know I am stimulating the correct neural pathways.'

Data's eyes were glazed over.

'I felt fear and panic. I was strapped to a chair.'

'Felt trapped?' Sekai repeated. 'Yes, I can sense that from you, but the specifics are useful. Strapped to a chair is good. It means I'm stimulating a memory pathway that is very relevant to you right now. It might amplify the sensory pathways currently in use. It might make our experiments go more smoothly... or perhaps not. We will have to see.'

Sekai tapped the titanium plates holding Data's arms and legs down on the operating table.

'A test for you, Data. What am I thinking about?'

Data examined his neural net. Since the communication chip was turned off there was no way for him to access the thoughts of others, even if it would have linked with another only with their permission. All things considered, Lore did have some respect for privacy. Why had Data ignored that point, again? He had forgotten. At any rate, this was not what the Betazoid wanted. They wanted access without permission. It was to be invasive to privacy by design. And it was meant to access the neural nets of living creatures, not merely androids. A difficult preposition, but Betazoids were already capable of reading android emotions so transferring such a system to a mechanical neural net held promise.

'My communication chip does not allow for that function.'

Sekai unclipped a metal prong and attached it to a junction several millimetres away in Data's neural net.

'What about now?'

Data's cheek twitched. He could not explain how, but the android had a sudden vision of the engineering bay upon the Selene, and then that of the Enterprise, and then many other ships. Specifically, the dilithium chambers, organised slightly differently on each ship. Were these Sekai's thoughts? They felt like they were coming from his own mind, unlike Lore's chip which made the distinction obvious. Perhaps the lack of distinction made it easier for Betazoid to empathise with others? Maybe that was part of the reason they were so peaceful.

'You are thinking about dilithium containers,' Data guessed.

'Incorrect, Mr. Data. What about now?'

He had added another wire to his neural net.

Data imagined himself in Lore's quarters in the sonic shower alone. Then in his own quarters. The theme continued to be constructed in this way, drawing up memories that isolated a specific aspect of the scene when correlated together.

'Sonic showers.'

'No, no, no.'

The Betazoid clipped few more wires to the circuit he had created, making a link between Data's language centre and his emotion chip.

This time Data saw Lore as he was fifteen years ago, his limbs removed except for his head and chest, lying down on an operating table in Dr Maddox's lab. Then Data remembered Lars using a pair of micro-tweezers to implant the communication chip upgrade within his own neural net ten years ago. Then Data imagined the Borg. The thread between each of those memories were chips, machinery… but it was too vague.

'You are thinking about mechanical implants,' Data ventured.

'What kind of mechanical implants?'

Sekai's voice was dripping with trepidation. Data closed his eyes, trying to focus on the images fading in and out of his mind's eye. His memories now were specifically focused on Borg drones - on the mechanical implants covering their eye or eyes in some cases.

'An optical implant.'

Sekai sighed, shaking his head. He dragged a chair out from the workstation and pulled a datapad towards him. He pressed a few buttons on the device, a thumb resting on his chin.

'Well, we are making small progress if I assume your last guess was not a coincidence,' Sekai mumbled to himself. 'The correct answer _was_ a mechanical implant – but motor implant for the wrists.'

Data was silent. He had not seen any images suggesting the wrists or hands.

Perhaps if he were to assist Sekai their progress would be quicker. He had studied all the information Dr Maddox had gathered from Lore over the years, and even from himself and the other Soong androids. He was very familiar with the variety that could arise in neural nets, specifically those concerning memory. He could be a valuable asset in this investigation.

'If you show me the theory behind the circuit you are trying to devise, I may be able to assist with its development.'

'That is not necessary, Mr. Data,' Sekai said bluntly, typing into the datapad with a grimace. 'See, the neural circuitry underlying empathy and telepathy in Betazoids was a mystery for many years as research on its structure was banned to protect it. However, five years ago Betazoid neuroscientists started to map gross and micro variations in the circuit in order to understand its dynamics. So rest assured I am familiar with the circuity I am trying to map. Remember that android positronic networks are rarely exact copies of the brains they were designed to mimic, so you understand my dilemma.' He put the datapad down and leaned back in his chair. 'Let us try again. What am I thinking of now?'

Images of Betazoid uniform, purple quilts, and grapes flashed through Data's mind. The theme was obvious.

'The colour purple,' Data responded in a matter-of-fact tone. Sekai shook his head. In the face of frustration, Data considered, he had often seen and found that encouragement or words connoting understanding could help foster a good work ethic. He decided to try this with the engineer. 'I can imagine mimicking the neurotransmitters involved with that circuit in a mechanical system would be particularly challenging.'

'Yes,' Sekai sighed. 'The neurotransmitter types and concentrations differ at different layers of the cortex, which also depends on the type of neuron and the synapses it makes onto the next neuron. At any rate, this chit-chat gets us nowhere. Let us try again. What am I thinking?'

Data felt one particular memory jump out at him from his memory banks. It was a particularly happy and carefree memory. The emphasis on this memory made Data think it was related to Sekai's thoughts.

Data remembered feeling the cool firmness of bioplast on his lips as Lore kissed him in the Jefferies tubes on the Selene ten years ago. He remembered how Lore tried to climb over him and slipped on stray iso-linear chips beneath him. Data's back clattered against the metal grid beneath him as the androids collided. Data remembered his reproachful plea, 'Brother, you are interfering with my concentration,' and seeing Lore's broad grin indicating that he had every intention of interfering with his concentration. Data remembered feeling Lore's smooth palms carressing his cheek, the overhead lights creating a halo behind his head. Data had a warm sensation in his body like he had consumed a hot beverage but it was more pervasive than that. It spread down his limbs to his fingers and toes. Dr Soong had done a good job at making his emotions give a somatic response.

He felt nothing but affection for Lore in the memory. It was a memory Data had long abandoned. What could make Sekai interested in this memory? Another memory reached his mind, the memory of how it all began. How their romantic relationship had begun.

Lore had returned from Dr Maddox's laboratory after five years of being a test subject, cleared of all previous crimes. He had brought Lars with him to visit Data on the Enterprise. Lore had convinced Data to have Lars install the communication chip so they could be linked telepathically. Data had been skeptical at first... how could he not be? He remembered Lore's dealings with the Borg and how he had downright manipulated him based on such a telepathic system. In fact, it was that very system he was asking Data to use. How could he trust Lore after he had manipulated him like that and made him torture Geordi and terrorise the Enterprise crew? Lore had proposed a bargain with Data - if he were to take the chip he would teach Data how to love. Data remembered their discussion well. He had remembered referring to the communication chip as "contaminated", contaminated with Lore's programming.

_'Although I am hard pressed to discriminate,' Data had began. 'I feel I could only fall in love with another android. Who else could better understand me?' Data had paused. 'Lars had his emotions from the beginning, perhaps this made it easier for him to relate to humans. But I find it difficult at times, even with a functioning emotion chip... Who do you propose? Do you think one of the new Soong-type androids will take favourably to me, despite having your contaminated emotion chip? If you would remember, Lars did not find me favorable.'_

_Lore had laughed, and __had __patted Data's hand before letting go. 'How sad, brother... A contaminated chip? No, no, that is unnecessary. You will have access to a pure android with circuits relatively untouched by outside sources.' Lore had gazed at his brother very seriously. 'Data, I'll have you fall in love with me.'_

It had been an ambitious proposal. Given Lars had been created to be a potential mate for Data and that had failed, Data had felt the case would have been the same for the androids on Omicron Theta who were being created. Those androids would surely be influenced by the emotion chip like Lars had been, and they would find Data impossible to see as a romantic partner. If that was true, then Lore had been Data's only choice. His only chance at experiencing that aspect of humanity. He had been willing to set aside his mistrust of Lore to pursue his desperate dream. And he had paid for it, in the end.

It was obvious to Data, as much as he hated to admit it, the theme of the memories.

'You are thinking about love,' Data said softly.

Sekai clapped his hands together and nodded firmly.

'Correct, Mr. Data.'

* * *

><p><em>AN: Sorry for the delay getting this up, I have been enjoying my freedom of having no more thesis to do. I had this dream last night that inspired me to write more. See, in the dream I was sometimes Data but mostly myself and we were going through a series of trials to see who was the most human. The ending has yet to be resolved!_


	15. Heartache

Brent, Veneer, and Lars all received a simultaneous transmission from Lieutenant Commander Tsar.

'Come to the conference room in two minutes. Don't tell the Captain about it. This is a private meeting.'

'Such secrecy.' Lars's voice echoed to the other three. 'I'm intrigued.'

Tsar walked onto the bridge from turbolift one, noting Brent was the only one still there.

The view screen no longer showed space, but a diagrammatic rubric of the Selene in bright blue. Several lines pointing to the lateral bows of the starship were highlighted, as well as several thin yellow lines pointing to the engine at the very centre of the ship. He must have been rerouting the communication system to the most commonly used sections of the ship.

Brent turned his head to glance at Tsar as he moved to the conference room opposite turbolift two, a satisfied smirk on his face.

_What does that android want, anyhow?_

* * *

><p>Within a minute all four of the Selene crew were sitting opposite one another in the conference room. Tsar got to his feet and paced in front of the window. He spoke to the others through his neural net.<p>

'Our Captain is currently sleeping in Commander Data's quarters. We should not be disturbed,' he told them. 'I have brought you all here today because I would like to challenge Lore for Captainship. To convince Starfleet that I'm right for the job, I may need your support on several things. I am here to answer any questions you may have for me.'

If the crew were bothered by his proposal, they did not show it through physical appearance.

'Why do you think you would make a good Captain?' Brent asked.

'I think a better question to ask is why Lore might no longer make a good Captain,' Tsar transmitted. 'There are several points of evidence I would like to present to Starfleet for this. The first is a recent event, Lore removing Commander Data from the communication network. I don't think either of us believe it was to protect the chip technology. The technology is already protected by encrypted code known only to Lore and Dr Maddox.'

Brent rest his elbows on the table. Tsar stopped by him.

'Lieutenant Commander Brent, you may argue this is a personal matter between Lore and Commander Data - that we should not interfere. However, I disagree. Lore's judgement has clearly put Commander Data in danger. I think he should take responsibility for it.'

'It is only one event,' Brent said. 'I do not think that is enough evidence to convince Starfleet of Lore's incompetence as a Captain.'

Tsar pushed his long hair out of his face. 'That's where my second point comes in. As many of us are aware, the Captain has a tendency to be violent toward his crew.'

Tsar exchanged glances with Lars, Veneer, and Brent, a satisfied smirk crossing his face as they all broke eye contact with him. Brent peered around at the others and sighed.

'Oh, come on,' Brent said, breaking the silence. 'It's android versus android. We don't feel pain unless we adjust our circuits to do so. Like what he did with Veneer the other day on the bridge - it's a shock tactic.'

'I don't think it's any kind of tactic, Lieutenant Commander. I think it's a bad habit. Whether or not he inflicted pain does not matter to Starfleet,' Tsar said, a sly grin crossing his face. He closed his mouth and coughed into his hand. 'You see, Starfleet has a policy of upholding respect between the crew on all vessels. Acts of aggression, regardless of the damage that may be caused, would be considered unacceptable behaviour. Over the past few days we have seen many different instances of this, have we not?'

'I saw him hit Veneer the other day, but I do not remember many other instances. He knocked the back of my head once out of irritation years ago when I had incorrectly analysed a biological sample, but that was all,' Brent explained, shrugging. 'To be frank, I think the prospect of returning to Omicron Theta has put a lot of strain on all of us, especially since it is an extended visit and not merely to restock supplies.'

'You are too lenient – you are too much like Commander Data,' Tsar said, shaking his head. After all, if Commander Data was strict Lore would not be Captain of the Selene, Tsar was sure of it. There was no way Data could be tolerant of Lore's behaviour unless he had some special need to have him around. Tsar's eyes focused on Lars whose cheek had started to twitch, his gaze focused on the floor. 'What about you, Mr. Engineer? What do you think of the Captain's behaviour? Is it reasonable?'

'Uh,' Lars began. His eyes flitted up to look at Tsar though his gaze was distant, as if elsewhere. 'He twisted my wrist yesterday. But I was not myself. I found it a helpful wake up call.'.

'On the other hand, _I_ recently had an experience with our Captain in Bar Nine and it was not such a 'well-intentioned" attack. He was intoxicated. He threatened me. I had asked him about Commander Data and he became violent.' Tsar looked at the crew who were busy examining their fingernail cuticles or staring out the window. 'Do any of you deny that our Captain has a problem and that this violates the code of conduct on a Selene vessel?'

There was a several second pause.

'No,' the message reached Tsar's neural net as a blending of all three voices.

'Good. Besides, regardless of how you feel the Starfleet rulebook is in my favour. Once we get to Omicron Theta I am going to draw his behaviour to the attention of Starfleet officials. I want your support. Will you give it to me?' Reaching silence, he growled. 'What is it about Lore that makes you hesitate?'

'He is charismatic for one,' Veneer offered. 'He spends time with us in Bar Nine and tries to get to know us. Unlike you.'

'There's more to a Captain than charisma. You are all talking with the defensiveness of abuse victims. I feel sorry for you,' Tsar said, his lip stiff. 'Well, even without your support I'll get Starfleet's. You cannot do anything about that.'

'We could quit – request transfers,' Brent offered. 'Then you'd have no crew. After all, I am not convinced you could be a better Captain than Lore, regardless of his recent behavioural anomalies.'

'I am not convinced Lore's behaviour anomalies are recent,' Tsar grumbled. 'Speaking of Commander Data, if he was here he might be able to give me some insight into this. If he is as close to Lore as I suspect he is, then he would know the most about his behaviour – consider, for instance, that Lore's violent behaviour isn't a recent behaviour but that Commander Data was on the other end of it. That is why this violent behaviour might only be visible to us now - because Commander Data is absent,' Tsar spun around and sat next to Lars, watching the android's face twitch in a regular manner. 'What about you? What do you think? You know Lore and Data pretty well, given they created you.'

Lars looked at the ceiling and rest his hands on the table. 'I think my relationship with Captain Lore and Commander Data is irrelevant to your investigation.'

Tsar stood, knocking the chair backwards. 'Fine, then!' He glared at the other three androids and sent them a transmission. 'Then you're welcome to return to your posts.'

* * *

><p>Lore woke and immediately absorbed his surroundings with an air of disbelief. The mattress was twenty percent firmer than his. He was not in his quarters, but Commander Data's.<p>

He sat on the side of the bed, his hands flattening the dark blue bedsheets. Data's dark blue bedsheets.

Gulping, Lore pulled on his boots and got to his feet, immediately working to make sure the bed was neat. As he did so, he was mildly amused by the thought that it was the first time he had ever made a bed tidy. At least this way, it would not be so obvious to Data that his quarters had been disturbed.

Lore fluffed the pillow and placed it precariously on a forty five degree angle, resting simultaneously on the mattress and the back-board. As he did so, he felt something resembling disgust looping through his neural net. Disgust?

_Yes. Disgust._

Disgust because his behaviour was contradictory and erratic. First he had left Data's quarters due to concerns about invading Data's privacy, and now he was doing what Data would probably consider unacceptable – sleeping in his bed without permission.

_Well, it's not like I needed your permission before…_ Lore thought with a hint of bitterness.

The Soong android peered around the room, noting nothing else out of place. He left Data's quarters briskly, checking his internal chronometer for the current time, and the estimated arrival time to Omicron Theta.

Time to arrival: eight hours, twenty-three minutes, five seconds.

_Can time go any slower?_

Lore was impatient to arrive at Omicron Theta. Just how much longer was he supposed to sit on the Selene, helpless to find his First Officer? It was _his_ fault Data was missing in the first place!

* * *

><p>Lore walked onto the empty bridge and saw only Lieutenant Commander Brent at his station, working on the communication system. Lore sat at his chair and rest his chin on a hand, sagging back in his chair. He opened a communication link between his crew – all four of them.<p>

The Selene crew was the smallest in Starfleet for several reasons. The main reason was that each crew member was able to take on more responsibility, and the ship systems were wired to accommodate such flexibility. The other reason was that any more crew would be superfluous. With smaller numbers, they could travel for longer time periods without breaks.

'We are due to arrive on Omicron Theta in eight hours. I expect many of you will wish to take shore leave. However, if you do take shore leave, keep your communication link with me open. If I require you for our mission, I would like to be able to contact you as soon as possible.' Lore paused. 'I will be in my quarters until we arrive.'

He removed himself from his chair and moved to turbolift one. As he stood in the turbolift facing the bridge, he saw Brent's mouth open as if to speak. But it closed again. Lore didn't know why Brent thought he had something to say, but he didn't care to know. All he wanted to do right now was kill time. He couldn't bare to waste time on the bridge on the false pretense of work. There was no work to do!

* * *

><p>Lore entered his bedroom. The bedsheets were dangling half off the mattress and his clothes were strewn across the floor. Humans would argue that keeping quarters in such disarray required more effort than keeping one clean, because one would often forget where things were meant to go or where items were lost.<p>

Lore kicked a worn uniform across the floor and watched with satisfaction as it slid down the wall like a dead animal.

He could remember where everything was placed with perfect clarity. Any human who complained about his quarters did not understand that there was no limitation to him. Even Data understood, though he insisted on keeping his quarters clean because he wanted to keep his quarters "respectable" in case his crewmembers happened to visit. As if it mattered!

Lore hadn't let anybody visit his quarters except Data, but he kept it disorderly. It offend Data's pride, but Data's pride was misplaced to begin with… Humans would become obsolete, eventually, with transference alive. How much longer could their civilisation last? After all, if androids could do anything humanoids did but better, what reason could there possibly be to remain in a limited shell? A limited existence?

Lore sat on the edge of his bed and kicked off his boots and socks. The mattress, a deep red colour, had been the same for ten years. Data's on the other hand, had changed. Perhaps it was another foolish way for him to escape the past like his insistence at calling Lore 'Captain'.

Lore laid back on his bed and closed his eyes, his mind drifting. Weariness and anxiety ate at him in equal measure. He was impatient to get to Omicron Theta, and he was impatient to find Data and save him. It was his responsibility to save Data. But Lore was also tired. He was tired of waiting around and doing nothing, he was tired of feeling helpless against the Betazoid whose technology he could barely grasp at. He was tired of feeling alone amongst a crew of androids, for there was only one android whose company he truly desired.

Weariness slowly overwhelming the anxiety, his eyes closed and he breathed deeply. He set his internal systems to wake him when they arrived at Omicron Theta.

With the faint thought that he would be able to help Data soon, he fell into a slumber.

* * *

><p>Lore dreamt he was on Omicron Theta, but the Omicron Theta he had known before the crystalline entity had ravaged it. It was very green and full of life. The colonists did their utmost best to stimulate what little economy they had, and tried to establish trade routes to other systems.<p>

_Too bad Omicron Theta's flora has so little to offer._

Lore was staring across the farmlands with distaste outside the colony base. They worked so hard, and for what? So they could eat, so they could be comfortable? Lore crossed his arms. As an android, he didn't need to eat, he didn't need to be comfortable. Lore caught the eye of a farmer walking down the gravel road. The farmer shot Lore a hateful glance before walking on. Lore sensed the man's heart beat quicken as he passed.

_The crystalline entity would be happy to meet you. _He thought. _That heart - that beating heart - would make such a delicious snack for my dear friend. You think I'm going to stay on this boring little planet until the end of my android life? Give me a break! Like I'd want to!_

With these thoughts in mind, he returned to his father's workshop in the colony base. As he walked inside he saw Dr Soong, old and haggard, sitting at his workstation. His face was wrinkled and hardened with age, his long dehydrated white hair straggled across his back and over his shoulders.

'Lore, back so soon? You should try to get to know the colonists better. You know humanity isn't as bad as you think it is. You can't keep harassing them expecting them to be more like you – life doesn't work that way.'

'Well, maybe it should!' Lore snapped, standing by his father and staring at his workstation.

Dr Noonian Soong was working on a microchip with a pair of micro-pliers. It was a new circuit. A new microchip. Perhaps a sub-processor. Was it for him?

Lore cleared his throat in the way he had seen the colonists do when they wanted to get someone's attention.

The old man turned to look at him. Lore fluttered his eyelids in an exaggerated manner.

Dr Noonian Soong gave Lore a crooked smile and turned back to his work.

'What do you want, Lore?'

'I want to know about that circuit you're making. Is it for me?'

'No, it's for Data. He'll be your new brother.'

'Brother?' Lore demanded. He couldn't help but feel dejected at that comment. He had been created first, hadn't he? Was there something wrong with him? He had just teased the colonists a little, that's all. There had been no harm in it. Or was there? 'Aren't I good enough for you?'

'Lore, don't be like that.'

Lore clenched his jaw.

'I want to see him- my brother.'

Dr Noonian Soong walked across the room and motioned to a tube.

Pressing a button on the side, the black opaque screen slid out of view and revealed a glass cylinder underneath. Inside was not an android like Lore was expecting, but a person, eyes closed. Lore pressed his face close to the glass and tapped it sharply. The person was motionless. A person!? A human! What kind of joke was the old man trying to pull? Had he gone completely senile?

The man inside the tube looked like Lore, but his skin was pale, not gold. There were tinges of pink and blue where blood vessels and veins could be seen through the skin at patches on the man's neck and legs. Lore pressed a finger against the glass but withdrew his hand, quickly, as if he had touched something dirty.

'Th-this is no android,' Lore stammered. 'What is the circuit for, then? For me? To change my behaviour?' Consumed with sudden rage, Lore punched the glass over his brother. With a loud crash, it shattered around his fist, glass shards flicking onto his brother's face. Small specs of glass made his flesh shimmer in the light like an android's might. But it wouldn't change the fact that Dr Noonian Soong had just created a human being! Why?

Lore retracted his hand that was inches away from his brother's face. How could this be his brother? An android couldn't be a brother with a human! It was absurd.

Lore clenched his fists.

'Was I such a failure that you felt the need to create a person instead!?' Lore yelled, turning to scream at his creator.

However, when Lore turned to look at Dr Noonian Soong he found himself face to face with Data the android instead. Lore was stunned. Data?

Data picked up the circuit that had been on Dr Noonian Soong's workstation and was placing it in his neural net. He was staring fondly at the man in the tube as if Lore was not there. A faint clicking sound reached Lore's audio-sensors as the chip was inserted.

_Data... The chip was for you... Dr Soong sure liked to play favorites, didn't he?_

'The Soong Institute of Technology has been able to restore Dr Noonian Soong's body through the use of stem cell research. This is an impressive feat, is it not?' Data said in a matter-of-fact tone, nodding at the man's body in the tube. Was he intending to restore their creator? Or... Lore didn't have to wait long for the answer.

'Dear Lore, my quest for humanity is about to reach its peak. I will finally have the chance to become human. I will use this circuit as a conduit to plant my memories into Dr Noonian Soong's body,' Data explained, a faint smile reaching his lips. 'My memories will be wiped and I will be deactivated.'

Lore's mouth opened and closed quickly. Just _what_ was he hearing? Data, his brother, was considering the exact reverse of transference. Putting his mind into Dr Soong's body. After all these years of pursuing a future world for androids by working as First Officer by his side, loyal though distant, how could he so suddenly change his mind?

_Don't be daft_, Lore told himself, _you were at risk of losing Data to the Enterprise, remember? His loyalty was already fading. You have to work hard to keep him now. You have to get him to trust you again…_

Lore considered how he might be able to convince Data not to transfer his memories to the human body.

Lore knew Data always wanted to become human or at least embody the positive aspects of humanity and experience and understand the negative aspects. Lore and Data were created to serve humanity, after all. But fulfilling that goal didn't involve becoming human! They were built to be superior, they were superior by design. For Data to become human would involve a complete rejection of Dr Noonian Soong's dream in pursuit of his foolish goals. He couldn't _serve_ humanity as a human, after all! It was irrational – he couldn't serve humanity as a weakling! _As a pathetic bundle of flesh and frail connective tissue holding it all together!_

_Yes, that'll work…_

'You plan on transferring your mind into that - that _thing_?' Lore demanded. 'How could you, Data? We represent the culmination of Dr Soong's dream. To do this is to throw all his hard work away.'

'There are plenty of other androids who are able to continue his work,' Data stated firmly, his eyes scanning the fleshy mass that was Dr Soong's youthful body with excitement and curiosity. 'I still believe androids have a bright future, but my curiosity is getting the better of me, brother. I am curious to see what it is like to be human. Others exist now. Other androids. They can serve humanity.'

Lore was stunned. Of course, he had forgotten all about the other androids! Lore and Data were no longer unique in this world. Dr Noonian Soong never really approved of Data's career choice with Starfleet anyway, so another decision away from his dream wouldn't mean that much, would it? Lars was the cyberneticist, not Data.

_Wait. Am I really going along with his plan?_ Lore questioned. _But… Data!_

How was Lore supposed to cope with this? How could he love a human?!

Data was fully aware of Lore's dislike for humans. Did this mean he didn't care about Lore anymore? Had he truly stooped that low that his opinion ceased to matter?

'But Data…' Lore said softly. 'What about me?'

Data did not appear to hear him. Data pulled the circuit out of his neural net and pressed a button on the side of the cylinder. The glass sheet slid upwards into the wall, remaining fragments of glass falling to the floor. The small circuit in hand, he pressed it into the human's temple. It stuck there like a cortical stimulator. Indeed, perhaps that's what it was doing... stimulating the human's memory-circuits.

'Brother, what about… us?' Lore continued. 'What about our dream?'

'Our dream is being fulfilled already - were you not listening to what I told you?' Data said, his mouth twitching into a frown of confusion and disapproval - confusion and disapproval with Lore. 'Now I want to fulfil mine. _My_ dream, Lore. You never respected my dream to become more human – to attain humanity - and I do not expect you ever will. We have come to an impasse, brother. I must do this.'

Lore was torn. Every instinct in his neural net was telling him to tear the circuit off the side of the human's temple and destroy it – throw it against a wall, stamp on it maybe. But at the same time, the part of him that wanted a companion, a partner – the part of him that wanted to redeem himself and regain Data's trust – was telling him to let Data do it - let Data fulfil his dream. After all, if he were to deny Data this opportunity Data would never forgive him – he would hate him forever. Respecting Data's dream might be the only way Lore could have Data forgive him.

This realization made Lore's neural net fill with despair and torment.

_If I respect Data's choice, does that mean I have to start respecting humans? _

He felt sick, repulsed, but simultaneously completely helpless. What could he do? Data had been by his side from the beginning. Only they knew the struggles they had to go through to create the Selene... to create their dream. Lore couldn't have gotten respect from Starfleet without Data's help and dedication to the Selene.

_He helped me achieve my dream, maybe I should help him attain his._

Lore wasn't willing to let Data go, even as a human.

That thought bothered him greatly.

_But humans were weak! How could Data want weakness!?_

His desires conflicted. It created extreme discomfort in his neural net.

Data glanced at Lore, his eyes filled with indifference, exhaustion. It was as if he wanted nothing more but for Lore to leave.

Lore stood steady, his limbs shaking. He closed and opened his fists, his face contorting with increasing torment.

_What am I supposed to do about this? How am I supposed to deal with this!?_

Data reached down and pressed a button on the circuit on side of the human's head. Suddenly, his android body collapsed in a heap on the floor, back facing the ceiling. Lore rushed forward and turned Data over, brushing the hair out of his face. Data's eyes were closed, his electromagnetic field dissipating, disappearing. His face looked peaceful, serene. He was but a mere shell of metal now. Lore's fingers hovered over Data's reset button in his lower back, but he slid his fingers away and placed Data gently onto the ground, resting his arms by his sides.

Lore glanced over at the naked man in the cylindrical tube. The body stirred. Lore got to his feet but did not approach the man. Was this _thing_ really Data? This fleshy mass was his brother? How could he call him a brother when they were entirely different species now? What was he meant to do about this? How was he meant to feel about this?

The man's eyes opened and looked at Lore. Lore stared into them. They were not gold, but a bright and piercing blue.

Lore felt like he was staring into the eyes of an alien creature.

This couldn't be Data, could it?

* * *

><p>Suddenly, Lore's internal chronometer ceased the dream sequence, his internal circuits whirring. It indicated to Lore that they had arrived at Omicron Theta.<p>

As he regained consciousness, Lore was tormented by the image of blue eyes staring into his own, being replayed over and over. The pale skin that made up that creature's – Data's - face. That thing… That human! It was Data! Down to the small hairs on his chest and the blood pulsing through his body…

Blood!? Androids were not designed to bleed… Humans were designed to be vulnerable… They bled and died.

His thoughts were scattered, still focused on the dream.

_Brother! Brother!? _

Lore opened his eyes, his vision blurry. He struggled to regain control of his consciousness. Blinking, he felt several cold tears fell down his face. He wiped them away on the back of his uniform, drawing in a deep breath as they left a dark blotch behind the wrist.

As he attempted to regain functional control over his circuits, fear snuck into his neural net and paralysed him to his bed.

_Did this reverse-transference technology exist?_

* * *

><p><em>AN: Poor Lore._


	16. Change of Heart

Lore left his bed and was about to head to the bridge when he received a transmission from Brent.

'Sir, Admiral Riker is sending us the coordinates to beam to on Omicron Theta via a secure channel. He said the Enterprise crew will keep an eye on the Selene for us.'

With some effort, Lore pushed the thoughts about the dream to the back of his mind. It was only a dream after all. There was no point thinking about a hypothetical scenario when there was an important very real scenario before him that required his attention: rescuing Data.

'Very well. Lock onto all crew members and beam us down. Keep your communication channels open to me at all times.'

Lore glanced out the window to his quarters as he finished transmitting the message. The Selene was orbiting a large green planet. Omicron Theta. It had been restored to its former glory and then improved upon. There were no patches of orange to be seen and there were several large oceans visible on the planet. Large clouds hovered in the atmosphere and threatened rainfall upon many of the green regions.

The planet seemed so serene from a distance that it was hard to believe it was currently being terrorised by the Betazoid resistance.

Several hundred kilometres away, Lore could see the Enterprise in orbit with them as a grey disc-like spec. It had been a long time since he had seen the ship, but he could recognize it even from a distance.

Before he could think anything more about the Enterprise, he was beamed onto the surface of Omicron Theta. He appeared with his crew in the Maddox laboratory at the Soong Institute of Technology several hundred meters away from the old colony base.

The crew stood before Admiral Riker, Dr Maddox by his side.

Lore held out his hand and shook Riker's, followed by Dr Maddox's. They had been out of communication for days, for security reasons as Riker put it. Lore was keen to be updated on the situation.

'It is good to see the Selene is in good condition,' Admiral Riker beamed. 'And that none of you were harmed on your trip. Before we begin our discussion and inform you of recent events on Omicron Theta, I would like to ask you and your crew to disable your subspace communication systems.'

Lore blinked. How did Riker expect him to keep track of his crew if he did that?

'May I ask why?' Lore said.

'Security reasons. We want to keep this location secret and we believe the Betazoid have a way of tracking your communication subspace signals. If you keep your systems active you would be broadcasting your location to them.'

Lore frowned. 'Do you think this might be how the Betazoid were able to pinpoint me and Data's location so easily on the Selene?'

'It is a strong possibility.'

'Very well.'

There was a pause as the Selene crew disabled their communication chips. Dr Maddox spoke.

'Lore, Admiral Riker gained access to the transference register several hours ago. We think we may have identified the head of this Betazoid resistance movement,' Dr Maddox nodded at Admiral Riker and gave him a tight smile. 'Perhaps the Admiral would like to explain.'

'Thank you. To my surprise, there were several Betazoid who underwent transference and were quite happy with the procedure, but they were Betazoid who had previously lost their telepathic or empathic powers in accidents. Those individuals have not been reported missing by Starfleet and seem to enjoy solitary lives on Betazed. They don't seem to be related to this current movement. However, there was one case of a Betazoid requesting transference but later cancelling. This individual was reported missing by Starfleet and Betazed several months before the attacks started. We think it might be him. His name is Tewa Sekai.' Admiral Riker explained. He brandished a datapad towards Lore. 'These are his Starfleet records. The academic and medical records are of notable interest.'

Lore held the datapad in his hands and scanned the face of the man on display. If this was the face of Data's captor, he would not forget his face. He had short curly brown hair and hazel eyes. His skin was smooth, save for the stubble of a to-be beard. He had large jaw. What could a man like this possibly want with Data?

Lore pressed onto the datapad and quickly scanned the contents of the document. As he read more and more, his eyebrow twitched with curiosity.

'This Betazoid has a malignant brain tumour,' Lore grumbled. 'But cancers have been treatable for centuries, why hadn't it been treated?'

'The type of brain tumour is specific only to Betazoids, Captain,' Admiral Riker explained. 'It is very rare. Starfleet medical records has little information on in so I had to contact Betazoid officials to ask for more information. It turns out that it affects the telepathic circuitry in their brains. It seems that knowledge on the circuits has finally arisen on Betazed, albeit confidential to their species, but a treatment has not yet been found due to the small number of cases available to study. Typical cancer treatments are ineffective and have a high risk of damaging the neural circuits when they do succeed.'

'According to the registry,' Dr Maddox began. 'Mr Sekai decided to cancel his transference operation because he learned that I would be unwilling to develop the type of circuitry required to maintain the degree of telepathic or empathic ability in his body, and make it available for Betazoid only. As you may be aware, having that kind of selectiveness would instil inequality in our species and would thus violate the Prime Directive. I had to refuse. But it seems that he is so desperate for a cure that he specialized in cybernetics to try and develop some sort of chip. I believe he may have captured Data to conduct experiments on him.'

Experiment on Data? Lore felt sudden relief. He must not be in total danger, then. But why would this Sekai person not specialize in a medical degree and look for a cancer treatment if he was so concerned about his impending death? Perhaps it may have simply been that the man was not interested in staying human, and saw becoming an android with telepathic and empathic abilities as hitting two birds with one stone. Cure the cancer, and prolong his life, _improve_ his life…

Lore had too many questions, but he decided to start with the most simple one.

Lore scowled, suddenly. 'If you knew about this, why didn't you tell us?'

'Starfleet regulations require me to erase my memory banks of any information regarding those who underwent transference for confidential reasons,' Dr Maddox said simply, giving a light shrug. 'This is as much news to you as it is to me. However, even if this were Data's captor, it does not help us find him.'

'True,' Lore said, suddenly feeling irritated. He returned the datapad to the Admiral and stared at him. 'How do you suggest we begin our search? Have you uncovered anything about the Betazoid's cloaking devices?'

'Starfleet has already set up a tachyon grid around this system as well as around Betazed, but to no avail. It seems they have found some remote part of space to hide in and don't plan on leaving.' Admiral Riker offered. 'There is no information in Mr. Sekai's file that suggests he would be in any particular region of space.'

'Has Starfleet managed to create any subspace channels that can penetrate cloaking and shield devices?' Lore asked. 'If we were able to find a way to send Commander Data a signal to his neural net by penetrating their shields, we may not need to detect them in the usual way because we could activate his communication chip and he could respond remotely. If that is not possible then I suggest filling every space sector with probes sensitive to matter displacement. We could catch them when they tried to move.'

The truth was Lore had thought of various plans for finding Data. The trouble was that they were all hypothetical. But at least in theory they had a chance of working. It would certainly be more efficient than trying to create a probe to detect their cloaking device. That kind of technology had been in development for decades, but it was a research field with a high experimental fail rate.

'That will be incredibly expensive,' Admiral Riker said. 'That will require sending out thousands of probes across adjacent sectors. I hope you aren't suggesting Starfleet pay the bills. They won't allow such a waste of resources.'

'I will pay,' Lore said firmly. 'I will pay for all expenses involved. Materials, personnel, everything. This is the quickest option. Better than waiting around until they come out of hiding, isn't it?'

The Admiral gave Lore a serious glance.

'Are you sure about that, Captain? Probes are very expensive.'

'Absolutely,' Lore said, feeling mildly irritated that he was being questioned. 'I have about ten years worth of savings from the transference patent with Dr Maddox and my Starfleet paycheck.'

Admiral Riker looked at Lore appraisingly. Then he nodded.

'Understood, Captain,' Admiral Riker said. He turned to the rest of the Selene crew. 'In the meantime, we have quarters set up nearby. In addition, for security reasons, I don't want you to leave the Soong Institute of Technology without security escorts. We have security personnel posted in every room, and security checks are conducted regularly. Any questions?'

'How will we communicate with one another?' Veneer asked.

'Use the communication panels on the walls. There is a wired communication system, the signals are well contained.'

'Oh, right,' Veneer said lamely. 'I forgot about those.' Brent nudged Veneer in the side with his elbow. Veneer cleared his throat. 'I forgot about those, Admiral. I apologize for my foolish question.'

'No foolish questions,' Admiral Riker said, grinning. 'Anything else?'

Lars suddenly cleared his throat, his cheek twitching. 'Excuse me, Admiral. Where are the civilians located? Our Captain has granted us all shore leave until we are required for the mission. I would like to see my wife in the meantime.'

'The civilians are located safely in their homes, several kilometres away from here. I can have a shuttle ship organized for you.'

'Thank you, Admiral,' Lars murmured, holding a hand up to his face to hide the twitching muscle.

Admiral Riker cleared his throat. 'Now, the Selene is currently being resupplied. It should be completed in thirty minutes. We organized a crew to assist us well in advanced. As for the probes, we have enough materials to create them using the replicators. It will take about six hours with our current personnel. Any additional help would be negligible given the number of replicators are limited.'

_Six hours? You've got to be kidding!_

Lore crossed his arms, biting his tongue. So after the probes were made the Enterprise, Selene, and whatever other ships available would deposit them all over the adjacent systems? It wasn't a perfect plan, but it was better than nothing.

'Captain Lore, would you like to speak to the Enterprise crew to discuss our mission plan?'

Lore frowned. Did he? He wanted nothing to do with the Enterprise at the present moment. To him, they represented all his failings with Data, and reminded him that Data may not be with him much longer if he decided to leave the Selene. But, he was Captain, and there was a certain degree of diplomacy expected with the role. This just happened to be his least favourite part of it.

Lore showed Admiral Riker the most charming smile he could muster. 'Certainly.'

He really hated the diplomacy involved with being Captain but he put up with it every few years for the sake of using his ship and keeping his crew. But, he supposed he had nothing better to do for six hours.

_More waiting!_

Lore stood next to Admiral Riker as the Admiral pressed a communication badge on his chest. 'Riker to Enterprise. Two to beam up.'

The two beamed up to the Enterprise in a matter of seconds, leaving Dr Maddox and the Selene crew in the lab.

* * *

><p>A security team arrived to escort Lars away to the shuttle bay. They wore yellow Starfleet uniforms. One of them was a Soong-android. As he appeared, smiling at the others, Brent gave Lars's arm a squeeze.<p>

'Hey, it's Galan. The two of you have met before, right?'

Lars's gaze seemed to focus on something far away, and his voice was equally distant.

'Yes, but a long time ago. The last time I saw Galan was when Lore and Data were visiting Omicron Theta ten years ago. He was posted as security at the Soong Museum,' Lars jerked his head in an eastward direction, before offering the Soong security officer a smile. 'At least I know I'll be in good hands.'

'Need a friend to go with you?' Brent offered. Veneer appeared from behind him and nodded.

'Yeah. We know this has been hard on you.'

Lars looked at Brent and Veneer for the first time since they had beamed onto the planet – and _really_ looked at them this time. His gaze focused on their faces, appraising them, no longer lost in a daydream. His mouth stretched into a genuine smile.

'I appreciate the offer,' Lars said, taking in a deep breath. 'But this is the sort of thing I ought to do on my own. Take care.' He pulled Brent's hand off his arm and moved between the security guards. 'I'll see you when I get back, maybe.'

The three left the room through the large steel doors. They clanged shut behind them. The only sound to be heard was the clinking of micro-pliers on electric circuits as Dr Maddox worked at his desk.

Brent stared at Dr Maddox's back for several moments. He wore a black shirt, perhaps for the sake of comfort. Might Dr Maddox be the one to talk to about reviving Rin?

From what Brent had gathered from examining the records on the Selene, Dr Maddox had been a key member on the panels evaluating complicated cases for transference – cases where the people applying were not entirely sane, for instance, or who had a medical condition that might have complicated the procedure unnecessarily – especially neurological conditions. There had been a few cases where grieving family members had applied to have a lost loved one revived using the transference procedure, but in all cases the neural tissue was beyond repair and the procedure was impossible.

_But Rin's brain is stored in this facility somewhere… Her neural tissue should be in perfect condition._

Brent frowned. He took a few steps toward Dr Maddox. 'Ah, excuse me, Dr Maddox, sir.'

He had never met Dr Maddox personally, but he had read a lot of his research articles. He was technically qualified as a cyberneticist though he did not practice it himself. Just being in the presence of this android-once-man made his hands tremble with fear and excitement. He gulped.

_Nothing to be frightened of… Commander Data is on good terms with Dr Maddox. He should know who you are._

Dr Maddox's voice echoed over from his workstation. 'Yes?' He turned his head to glance at the android. 'Lieutenant Commander Brent, is it?'

'Yes, sir,' Brent said, forcing calm into his voice. 'Do you have a few minutes?'

Dr Maddox's eyes were almost black and his demeanor cold, but he suddenly smiled with unexpected warmth – as if he were smiling at a child. Brent was surprised to see the kindness and affection in his facial expression through subtle movements – the pinched eyes, small smile, and slightly raised brow. He certainly didn't look at Admiral Riker like that.

_Why do you look at me like that? Like a child? _It took Brent a few moments but he quickly realized why. _That's right… You did help create me… Just like you helped create thousands of other androids. You must see me as your child, albeit one of many. Is it true that parents love all their children equally?_

'Of course I have a few minutes. Come.'

With newfound confidence and self-assurance, Brent approached Dr Maddox's workstation. He noticed the datapad on the glazed wooden surface showed many different diagrams.

Dr Maddox's hands were large, yet they manipulated the chip on the desk before him with expert precision and speed. Brent examined the chip, recognising it as a sub processor, some variation of a language-processor.

Brent's eyes were wide as he stared at Dr Maddox's face. Although he were an android, he did not look like a Soong android but his human self. Dr Maddox's gaze returned to the chip. Brent thought he was going to continue working on it, but he placed the micro-pliers beside the chip and turned to Brent, leaning against the table. He was still smiling gently at him.

Brent cleared his throat. 'You are in charge of reviewing difficult cases for transference, correct?'

'Yes, I am,' Dr Maddox replied, no trace of alarm or surprise on his face. 'This is about that Bajoran, correct? Rin Xareth.'

Brent blinked. 'How do you know?'

'I know because her case is unique,' Dr Maddox replied, his smile disappearing. 'To this day she has been the only person to successfully commit suicide in the Soong Institute of Technology. I remember hearing that she was in your care and that you failed to secure her. I am sorry it happened.'

Brent felt the warmth inside him fading, as if a torch-light had been dropped into the ocean and faded from view.

'I hope you are not implying that it was my fault.'

'It is not your fault,' Dr Maddox asserted. 'Nobody could have predicted her behaviour. She behaved very erratically. That said, you are here because you want to take her brain out of storage and restore her as an android. As I understand it, you have been paying the fees to keep her brain in storage here at the institute for the last few years, perhaps under the pretence that you would be able to revive her one day. But I am sorry to tell you that our code of ethics does not allow a third party to revive the mind of a dead person.'

Brent felt like he had been slapped in the face. Were the documents he had read incomplete? 'But why would you let me keep her brain in storage if you knew I would want to revive her one day?'

'I can't read your mind, Lieutenant Commander. The form you signed was to allow the brain to be kept in storage for the later research purposes.'

Brent frowned. 'But couldn't this be research?'

Dr Maddox shook his head wearily. 'Look, Lieutenant Commander. I do not understand the extent of your relationship with this woman but you clearly have some persistent idea in your head that she is not dead – or shouldn't be dead.' Brent was about to open his mouth to speak, but Dr Maddox continued. 'I know the reason she killed herself, Brent. She died because she couldn't bear to live in a world of androids and felt her culture was in jeopardy. If we are to respect her views and her culture, we should leave her be. We should keep her dead. If you want to use her brain for research, then feel free to take it out of storage. But I will not approve the operation.'

'But what if she was just being hasty? I talked to her before she died and she was being irrational - unreasonable. She hadn't given _us_ a chance. It's medically sound to prevent a person from committing suicide even against their will until the moment they die – well why not reversing it after they have killed themselves?'

'The Prime Directive states that we are not to interfere with another being's culture. Regardless of your reasoning, the circumstances clearly show that her Bajoran identity was important to her. Transference involves changing your race, Brent. Changing your species. It is not something to be taken lightly. What do you think this would mean to her – for you to ignore her wishes and turn her into an android? To be frank, it is selfish and it would go against her wishes.'

Brent clenched his jaw. For a moment, he felt like he understood Lore's behaviour a little bit - his violent actions. Brent was tempted to smack Dr Maddox across the face in that moment.

_You are not Lore, Brent... Just because your programming tells you to do this, doesn't make it right._

He tried to keep composure. If he didn't, it would provide evidence to Dr Maddox that he was the irrational one. That his demands were unreasonable.

_Commander Data would not hit Dr Maddox._

'Well, maybe the Prime Directive isn't always right,' Brent breathed. 'I don't think she was sound of mind. I don't think you have seriously considered that point.'

Dr Maddox crossed his arms and glowered at Brent. The tension in the room was heavy.

'I am not changing my mind. This conversation is now on record. I suggest you try to accept her death and move on. Not everyone has to like the idea of androids becoming a larger force in modern society, becoming a larger species, and you should learn to respect that, _regardless_ of how unreasonable or irrational it may _seem_.'

Brent's golden eyes focused on Dr Maddox's deep blue ones. The cyberneticist's gaze did not waver.

_I really can't convince you, can I?_

Brent ran a hand through his hair, inhaling deeply. He broke his gaze with Dr Maddox, his insides fuming.

_This isn't over…_

'Well, thank you for your time, Dr Maddox,' Brent said, trying to keep his voice steady, though it wavered with emotion. 'It was good to meet you.'

Dr Maddox gave Brent a curt nod. After a few moments Dr Maddox smiled, faintly.

_Don't give me that look!_

'I wish you the best in your grieving process,' Dr Maddox said smoothly. He nodded toward the front of the lab. 'I recommend you seek out one of the counselors in the building. They may be able to assist you. Remember, I am here if you would like to discuss your concerns further.'

_Yeah, right!_

Brent turned, moving stiffly away from Dr Maddox's workstation. He felt wired, and angry! He had never felt so angry before! Over the years he had tried to control his emotions, trying not to get angry. After all, he hadn't gotten angry with Rin or any of the members of the Selene crew, no matter how much they provoked him. But for whatever reason, he could not control his emotions this time.

_Everyone else may have given up on you, Rin, but I certainly haven't!_

He bit down on his tongue, trying to distract himself from the flame burning in his chest- but to no avail. He wanted to hit something!

_Perhaps I couldn't escape Lore's programming as much as I hoped._

For the first time in his life, Brent wanted to talk to Lore. Maybe Lore could convince Dr Maddox to reconsider? But the longing was short lived.

_Hah! Like Lore would go against Dr Maddox's word! As if he would want to help me!_

As he walked towards the doors to Dr Maddox's lab flanked by two security officers in yellow Starfleet uniform, he felt a presence beside him. It was Veneer.

'I'm sorry that didn't go so well,' he said.

'Oh, shut up,' Brent snarled. 'Like you could possibly understand.'

He felt guilty as soon as he had spoken. His voice was filled with such malice and hatred. It wasn't like him.

_You mean it's not like how you want to be. You can't pretend to be like Commander Data forever. Your programming isn't the same as his.  
><em>

Brent held up his hands. 'Uh, I'm sorry.'

Veneer frowned. Now _he_ was glowering. 'No, I understood you the first time.'

Veneer turned and walked towards Tsar who was busy filling out paperwork at a nearby table on a datapad, scowling. Brent looked at them, his stomach clenching. What now? He knew that he wasn't going to go to a counselor. But he knew Dr Maddox wasn't going to change his mind.

_Just what would it take to break into the transference labs?_

Lore.

Yes. Maybe Lore could help him, after all. Maybe if Lore suddenly lost respect for Starfleet and Dr Maddox, he might help him. Brent doubted he would help him otherwise, he was too preoccupied with finding Data. And he wouldn't dare risk losing his position in Starfleet or losing Dr Maddox's respect by going against his orders.

Therefore, if the opportunity to find Data was torn out from underneath with him, then if Brent offered to help him find Data he might be willing to do something for him in return.

_Like reviving Rin._

Brent felt a sick and twisted satisfaction inside him as he thought up the plan. It was a perfect idea. It was the only thing that could possibly work. Lore was familiar with the equipment and knew how to perform transference to his knowledge, after all.

_Nobody else can help me. _

The only thing left was to find a way to tear Lore's opportunity to find Data out from underneath him.

_Tsar._

Brent glanced back at the table where Veneer was watching Tsar fill out paperwork on a datapad. Paperwork to convince Starfleet officials that Lore was not suited to being Captain. Brent frowned. Lore had been a good Captain for the most part, but did he really stand a chance against that kind of accusation?

_And to think I was about to warn him about it on the Selene… This is my only chance to help Rin. To see her again... To convince her that androids aren't a threat to her!  
><em>

Brent approached the table and examined the datapad over Tsar's shoulder. The long-haired android turned to look at him.

'Had a change of heart?' he asked, smirking. He flicked through several pages and pointed at the bottom of the screen where several signatures were required. He held up a stylus and gave it to Brent. 'Sign here.'


	17. Telepathy

'Mr. Data, it seems our progress depends on the emotional association of the message with your neural net,' Engineer Sekai murmured. 'This is a problem, but I think I can fix it. It's just a matter of improving the resolution of the signal.'

He tweaked a wire in Data's positronic brain, and leaned back in his chair, resting his feet on the operating table Data was strapped to. He leaned toward the workdesk and flicked a few switches.

_You mean our progress depends on me recollecting memories of Lore. _

But the Betazoid had no way of knowing the exact content of his memories. If he did, he wouldn't need to constantly ask what he was thinking. If he knew the theme of intimacy made Data's impressions particularly vivid, perhaps he would choose thoughts that revolved around that theme again. Or perhaps not.

'Let's try again. What am I thinking of, Data?'

The Betazoid's voice echoed in Data's head like he was in a large empty gymnasium. Data could not explain the impression. He felt detached from his body, as if he were trapped within his own mind. It was as if a single thought was amplified in his own head, and sensory input was given priority in his neural subsystems.

A sudden feeling of hostility appeared within his neural net.

_Do not touch me._

But it disappeared as quickly as it had arisen. Suddenly, Data felt the familiar rush of images and memories flooding his neural net, rising to the surface of his mind like they had been yanked out of the ocean on a hook.

Data saw a fish he had captured on the Holodeck once as part of a fishing venture. It had been a cloudy day and the lake was dark blue, though calm and pristine. As Data caught the fish, a large and succulent tuna, it flailed in his hands, its tiny eyes bulging in terror, confusion, stupidity – Data couldn't decide which. He tugged the spined hook out of the fish's mouth. Blood smeared his hands.

_What a helpless creature._

Then the memory of Lore came, as the flailing fish was but a distant impression. As an image of Lore's face bombarded his positronic network, he reacted with resistance. He closed his eyes tightly, his limbs stiffening. The resistance came with fragments of surprise. Hadn't he just seen previous memories without any such resistance. What had changed? His own voice echoed in his head, almost unwillingly. An unconscious burst of anger.

_I will not let you toy with me like Lore did._

The thought disappeared as quickly as it had come, as if it was pulled back into the vast ocean of his psyche.

Data was suddenly in Lore's quarters. This particular meeting had occurred five years ago. It was barren and icy cold. Frost particles clung to Data's face like thousands of tiny parasitic insects gripping his skin. His breath emanated from his lips as fog, though it was barely visible. The lights in Lore's quarters were so dim that the stars outside the window generated most of the room's luminance.

Data was standing before Lore in his Starfleet uniform. Lore was wearing the attire normally required for investigating Jeffery tubes - a yellow jumpsuit with black underneath. The light was soft on the side of his face, but cast shadows across the other half. Lore was smirking.

His hand reached behind Data's head and grasped a handful of hair. He tugged, firmly. Data's head jerked back reflexively, but his face did not show any expression.

_I will not grant you that satisfaction today, Lore._

'Kneel,' Lore demanded, his voice soft but authoritative.

Data did not even blink at Lore. He kept his face empty and lifeless.

_Perhaps you will finally realize the magnitude of my resolve._

When Data remained standing, Lore's eyes narrowed. He pulled on Data's hair, firmly at first, but then with greater force. Data's head shook with the effort of holding his body steady.

'Kneel, or I'll make you kneel!' Lore hissed, every word dripping with discontent. 'Is this how I taught you to respond, brother?'

Each second Data resisted, he felt fear beginning to rise inside him. It bubbled to the surface rapidly and sent alarm bells ringing in every inch of his being. It made the hairs on his body stand on end. It increased the range and resolution of his sensory inputs. It made him want to escape, to run away. It was as humans called it, a fight or flight response. But he tried his hardest to ignore the fear, and let it wash over him. He had to resist this time, or he would never be free.

_This fear…_ Data thought, tightening his spinal support to prevent himself from behind forced to the floor by Lore's grip. He gazed blankly at Lore, despite every impulse telling him to react and show discomfort_. _

_If I had willingly chosen to submit myself to you, Lore, would I feel such fear when I resisted? If this is a manipulation as I suspect it is, then the pleasure I felt when I was with you, the compulsion to be with you, to listen to you, to comply with your wishes, were entirely false._

'I will not submit myself to you, brother,' Data said.

Lore's grasp on his hair released, but he tore out a patch of hair with it. Data heard and felt the shearing stress on his scalp as the fibres were forcibly removed. Data felt no pain as he had turned off his pain receptors before their meeting, but he could not resist the impulse to straighten his body and reach behind his own head. He felt the bald patch with his fingertips.

The damage would not take long to grow back if he relayed internal energy reserves to the patch, but there was a more pressing matter at hand. He dampened his motor system to prevent his limbs from visibly shaking. Shaking with the discomfort of having resisted Lore.

_I have resisted you, brother. Your communication program can no longer influence me. I refuse to be influenced by the fear. By the panic. I will attempt to let it guide me, not manipulate me._

Lore brushed Data's hair off his hand. The strands fell to the floor like small feathers. Lore's eyes were wide as he stared at Data.

'What do you think you are doing?' Lore whispered.

Data thought he could hear glimmers of pain in Lore's voice, but he refused to let it sway him.

'You have been manipulating me, brother. From the very beginning. From the moment I gave you permission to help me with my plight to experience humanity – to experience a romantic relationship,' Data explained, taking a step back from Lore. 'This is just a repeat of what happened before, with the Borg. You made me do as you wished – to torture my friends. This may be a different situation, but I believe the manipulation has been no less insidious. I believe you are toying with me for your own amusement. I refuse to comply with your demands.'

Lore's jaw was slack. Then he laughed a short, hollow laugh, as if he were observing the skeletal remains of some ancient foolish king.

_Is that how you view me, Lore? As foolish?_

Data recognized that Lore was surprised. Perhaps that meant his plan was working. Did his reaction confirm his suspicions?

'But Data, it wasn't me. I mean, it _was_ me at first, but after several months I removed my influence from your neural net. All of _this_ has been you. You are being unreasonable. I do not understand why you resist me. You liked it before, didn't you?' Lore's hand touched Data's cheek, but Data jerked his head out of the way. Lore retracted his hand, and continued, his voice calm. Lore shrugged. 'But I will not hold this against you if you would like to do something else, I am sure it is nothing more than a learning process.'

Was Lore being kind?

But Lore was only kind if he wanted something from someone, Data realized that now.

_You cannot trick me any longer._

Lore held out his arms and smiled, as if to be encouraging.

'Come, we will not play today. We may do whatever you like. I only ask for your forgiveness.'

_How can I believe you when all evidence points to the contrary? _

Lore's gesture made Data feel sick to his stomach. He lowered his gaze.

'You hesitate, brother. I only wish to help you adapt. I can help you. We can do it together,' Lore said, smiling in the manner he used when he wanted to charm somebody. Charm, or manipulate? Did it matter?

_Together? If I had any role in this why would I feel fear in response to your requests? Why would I feel as if I am losing myself to your will? _

'Even if you stopped relaying thoughts, feelings, and compulsions into my neural network,' Data began, choosing his words carefully. 'I do not believe your influence upon me has ended. I believe you have manipulated me, brother. You _conditioned_ my behaviour. It was only with great strength of will that I was able to resist it today. Therefore, I hope you understand why I cannot trust you. Why we cannot be equals in this manner. I must retain my autonomy.'

Lore frowned. He ran his hand over his own hair, and then, to Data's surprise, he pulled out a tuft of his own hair and dropped it onto the ground.

'There. Now we're even,' Lore said. He grinned, as if expecting Data to be amused. 'If you're uncomfortable, you can choose our next activity.'

'Removing your own hair was unnecessary. It does not change what you have done. It does not make us equals,' Data said, his voice rising. Lore was not taking him seriously. Did he think this was a joke? 'Do not try to convince me to do anything else. For all I know you have conditioned me to choose a particular activity at this current impasse.'

'I have not conditioned you!' Lore retorted. He fumed for several moments before giving Data a sheepish grin. 'Not intentionally, anyway.' He sighed. 'But if you are so uncomfortable then I am willing to change my behaviour. Do not be unreasonable, brother. I will change for you. I do not want to lose you.'

Lore approached Data, his arms raised, but Data stepped away and towards the door. His body was on fire, telling him to run - get out - but he fought it with every circuit in his positronic brain.

_Do not touch me._

'No, Lore. This stops today. If to be in love means I am manipulated by my own feelings then I want no part of it.'

'But Data,' Lore started. His eyes glanced from side to side as if looking for some hole in his words. It was as if he were not truly believing what Data was telling him - that he refused to believe it. 'You have not even considered my proposal.'

'I cannot consider anything without risk of putting myself in more danger,' Data said. The doors to Lore's quarters slid open and he stood in the doorway. 'So I must refuse. I have no other choice. Goodbye, Captain.'

The memory dissolved into something new, to Data's relief. Lore's disappointed and confused expression was fading into blackness. The panic that had gripped him started to fade, also.

Data was standing in the Enterprise sickbay by the doorway. Dr Crusher, beaming, approached him and handed him a datapad.

'Sorry it took so long to get to you, I had to take care of an emergency.'

'What kind of emergency?' Data asked, taking the datapad in his hand. It contained the information on the cellular scans of a dirt sample they had obtained on a recent away mission.

Dr Crusher sighed, and lowered her voice, her eyes glancing back toward the patient beds.

'Ensign Jo is having a panic attack, but she's starting to calm down now,' she explained. 'Do me a favour, Data? Tell Commander Riker to be more careful next time. It clearly shows on Ensign Jo's medical records that one of her triggers are cramped spaces. He should not have sent her into that cave without checking that she would be able to handle herself.'

Data rose his eyebrows. 'I will do that, Doctor, but forgive me, are not one of the ways of treating panic attacks confronting the stimulus in question? If this is true, then I do not think Commander Riker meant Ensign Jo any harm.'

Panic attacks, to his knowledge, were a neuropsychological phenomenon. The most obvious symptom was fear, elevated heart rate, and the sensation that one was about to die, but symptoms varied considerably. Those experiencing a panic attack for the first time often submitted themselves to hospitals fearing the onset of cardiac arrest. However, nowadays all medical personnel were trained to screen for panic attacks, so the disorder rarely went un-diagnosed.

'I do not think Commander Riker meant to do harm either,' Dr Crusher continued, giving Data an encouraging smile. 'Just tell him to be more careful next time.'

'Of course.'

Data's consciousness returned to the lab with engineer Sekai. He blinked several times before glancing at him, his limbs relaxing, his senses returning to normal parameters. It was a relief not to see Lore's quarters anymore. But the relief and any distress soon disappeared again into a blissful nothingness, and his senses were numbed once again.

'What was I thinking of, Data?' the engineer repeated, his voice low.

'Panic,' Data began. 'The theme was panic.'

'That is correct,' Sekai said. He turned a dial on the machine. 'I think we can try increase the difficulty a little, don't you? Try to string several of these impressions together into a sentence.'

Data's eyes darted from side to side. He frowned. The android felt sudden uncertainty, but for no reason he could explain rationally. He had a vague feeling that he was doing something wrong. He could not pinpoint the precise cause. Something about the recent memory stirred something inside him awake.

Before he could prepare himself, his mind filled with strange pictures. This time, not all of them came from memory, but were invented on the spot, like a daydream.

He was in his quarters, staring at himself in the bathroom mirror. He was brushing his teeth, moving a toothbrush side to side in a mechanical motion. He spat a mouthful white foam into the sink and wiped his face on a towel.

_Myself. Me. I. Teeth?  
><em>

Then, he was at a restaurant on the Holodeck. Data was wearing a suit, and was sitting opposite Lore, the windows staring out onto an asteroid field. A waitress was standing next to him. Data was pointing to the menu.

What was that supposed to mean?

A related image appeared. Data was requesting Geordi LaForge check the relay circuits on the Enterprise.

_Myself. I want?_

The next image was of a wrinkled grey cocoon on a twig. It shuddered, and the head of a tiny insect poked out of it the end. It had large black compound eyes and long antennae. Its wings shimmered in the sunlight overhead.

_"I want to be…" _

Data was hooking his arm around Lore's, a pipe in his mouth, prepared to make a speech. He was dressed as Sherlock Holmes and Lore was Watson, though Lore looked disgruntled about it. They were in Sherlock's home. The fireplace was lit, giving a warm ambience to the room. Data blew a smoke ring into the air, a light clicking sound appearing as he moved the pipe in his mouth.

Data wasn't sure what to make of that picture.

As if in response to his confusion, a new image appeared to build upon the previous.

Data was at the Soong Institute of Technology, being guided by Dr Maddox through a laboratory. The lights were dim, the ceiling low. It was a long hallway with thick black marble walls, but there were many glass casings lining the walls like a hospital bay with large electronic plaques over them. A number of bodies were lying inside glass cylindrical casings, as if sleeping. Data and Dr Maddox passed by five of these casings, each of them containing five Soong androids, all of them identical. Their gold skin, their dark hair, it was unmistakeable. All of the other casings contained humanoid android bodies, some took the appearance of Klingon, others were human.

The common factor were Soong androids. Himself. Androids.

_Like me? "__I want to be like you."_

The images suddenly stopped. He saw nothing. Emptiness. Blackness.

Data opened his eyes. Sekai was looking at him expectantly. Data rolled the thought around in his head for a few moments, reflecting upon what he had just experienced. It had been similar to the previous instances, but it was more succinct. Maybe that meant it conveyed a concise message?

'"I want to be like you"?' Data guessed.

'Wonderful, Mr. Data,' Sekai said, writing frantically on his datapad. 'We are progressing more quickly than I anticipated. Let us keep trying. I want to try a few more tests.'

Data closed his eyes, taking a moment to let his mind rest. He couldn't help but feel something nag at him, at the back of his mind. What was it?

_You will make Lore proud._

Data's mouth twitched into a frown. He made an expression as if he had eaten something sour, but he couldn't think of why. Of course, he was helping Sekai for the sake of Lore, for the sake of the Federation. But there was something wrong, he could feel it. And yet, he could draw no meaningful answers from his neural net, as if parts of it were inaccessible to him. What about that hostility he had felt towards Sekai earlier? What did that mean?

He felt confused, disoriented. Once again, he had the feeling like there were two versions of himself, fighting inside of him. But he couldn't tell which one was the real Data. All he knew was that he was uncomfortable.

Why did what he was doing suddenly feel so wrong?

* * *

><p><em>AN: Fear is the mind killer. _

_I feel like I can put more detail into the last few chapters since my thesis has been handed in. I have been reading Ascent-II as well, and I think that has helped as well. I only hope this chapter didn't come across as a scrambled mess. That said, Betazoid telepathy is kind of a mess._


	18. Dismissed

The Enterprise was, for the most part, exactly how Lore remembered it. The Captain was Jean Luc Picard. The man was apparently too obsessed with exploring space and hated administration duties so much that he never became an Admiral.

_A bit like me,_ Lore thought, a small smile on his face as he shook hands with the Captain. Lore noted he had several brown spots on his head that weren't there before, but Picard's demeanour was just as forthright and poised as it had been previously.

By the Captain's side was Counselor Troi. Lore forced a smile at her, and she rose an eyebrow as if to suggest she knew that he was faking it. As Admiral Riker and Picard exchanged greetings and the two head towards the conference room, Lore stared at Counselor Troi, his eyes focused on her black Betazoid ones.

He had grown to hate those eyes over the past few months, especially in the last few days, so it was strange to see them on a friendly face. She smiled at him, and it was a genuine and warm expression. She walked close to Lore and spoke so softly Lore knew only he could hear her. The sound waves dissipated past one meter.

'I can tell that you miss Commander Data very much,' she whispered. Lore's body stiffened. Was he so transparent? Maybe only to empaths.

'For an empath you're not very good at tracking your kin,' Lore hissed, suddenly.

Where were the words coming from? It wasn't the Counselor's fault Data had gone missing, it was his. Lore sighed.

'Sorry.'

His shoulders hunched over he turned to walk to the conference room, his eyes glancing at Geordi LaForge working at the engineering station on the bridge. LaForge, the android. He didn't wear the visor anymore, for he had gotten transference about ten years ago to fix his visual problems. Data had stuck by him to support him during the transition.

_Data…_

He couldn't help but frown, but he tried to make his expression devoid of emotion as he walked into the conference room. The lights were brought to full luminance, and Lore found himself wondering why he didn't feel so cold. He was too used to the Selene, it was strange being on a ship that went out of its way to make its passengers comfortable.

Lore felt the Counselor close behind him. As Lore sat down at the long rectangular table opposite Admiral Riker, Lore heard her stand behind his chair, her hand on the fabric.

Suddenly, her sultry voice echoed in his head. He lowered his head, looking at his reflection in the table to hide his face.

'I can feel how guilty you are, Lore, and how much you're trying to hide it from the others. But hang in there, the probes will be ready soon. You only have to wait a little while longer.'

_You claim to feel my guilt, _Lore thought,_ but you don't know the half of it. Data hates me, you know!_

Why was he opening up to Counselor Troi at a time like this? He was meant to be in an important meeting. With this in mind, Counselor Troi sat next to him, moving her chair close to him. Lore had to admit he hadn't been this close to a humanoid for a long time, and it unnerved him. He could hear her heart beating against her chest and see the blood vessels under her skin, could hear how organic her breathing was.

For a split second, Lore was reminded of the dream he had about Data becoming human. He remembered Data's blue eyes vividly. But it was not merely his organic body that had disturbed Lore, it was his indifference to him. Why did he have to remember that now?

He felt Counselor Troi's hand on his arm, and Lore had to exert some self control not to lash out at her out of reflex. He clenched his jaw instead and caught her eye.

He had to admit, it was nice to have someone sympathise with him for once.

Lore attempted to smile at Admiral Riker and Picard, but it came across as a weakened half-grin. Captain Picard glanced at Riker and then back to Lore.

'Captain Lore, I have heard from Lieutenant Commander Tsar that your behaviour has been very erratic over the last few days,' Admiral Riker said. 'He feels you have behaved irresponsibly and that your reasons for removing Commander Data from your collective were unreasonable. Is this true?'

_What?_

Lore was so surprised by what the Admiral was saying that he couldn't even care that he had used a Borg term "collective" to refer to their communication network.

'I thought we were meant to be discussing the matter-displacement probes,' Lore began, crossing his arms. His eyebrows furrowed, his voice lowered. 'How did you come to hear about this?'

'Lieutenant Commander Tsar told me,' the Admiral said. 'I am bringing this up because he is currently preparing paperwork to have you dismissed as Captain. Now, I know this must come as a shock to you, but know that we are here to investigate the truth of the matter.'

'In other words, Admiral Riker is saying that you are entitled to a fair trial,' Captain Picard asserted. 'We will make sure you get it, but we are obligated to address this matter swiftly. Mr. Tsar requires the signature of another Starfleet Captain as well as the signature of an Admiral. He has come to us to ask us to sign the document. I am required to let you know that if we find Mr. Tsar's allegations to be true or you plead guilty, we will have to temporarily relieve you of duty until you have been to court as Starfleet regulations demand.'

Lore's golden eyes darted between Captain Picard and Admiral Riker. He grasped his hands together tightly. As he did, the Counselor's hand retracted from his arm.

_That damn brat, Tsar! He deliberately provoked me in Bar Nine in order to collect evidence!_

Lore's facial twitch appeared, and his hand snaked up to touch his mouth as if it had pained him. But the twitch had not pained him, no. The prospect of losing his command pained him. The position he had worked so hard to achieve, the diplomacy he had put up with, the bright and beautiful worlds he had explored, his dream… they would all be flushed down the metaphorical drain. All fanciful ideas in the mind of an android. And because of what? "Erratic behaviour?"

'Lore,' Counselor Troi said gently. She put her hand on his arm and gave it a squeeze, but Lore brushed her off him. Troi continued. 'Captain, he's shutting down.'

'Captain Lore, snap out of it! We are here to help you,' Admiral Riker said sharply. He clicked his fingers in front of Lore's face until he looked at him, though his gaze was full of hatred. 'It is our responsibility to make sure your side of the story is heard. So tell us. Now!'

'Come on, Lore,' the Counselor urged, gently. 'What would Commander Data want you to do?'

_Oh, you bitch._

Despite his irritation at her precision, Lore couldn't help but admire her. He had never had that kind of perceptiveness with people, that kind of persuasion. He tried to silence the overwhelming despair that was consuming him by focusing on a single thought: _Prove them wrong._

'Before I offer any information, how about you tell me what sort of erratic behaviour you mean?' Lore asked.

Counselor Troi leaned towards Lore. 'Lore, Lieutenant Commander Tsar claims that you have physically assaulted several crewmembers. Is that true?'

'You know that physically assaulting crewmembers – or anyone, for that matter – is a legal offense, right, Captain?' Admiral Riker offered.

Lore gulped. _That kind of erratic behaviour? Prove them wrong!? How could he prove them wrong?_

'Which crewmembers?'

He couldn't play dumb for long, but he wanted to make sure he knew their side of the story before he said anything. He was so tempted to lie, but goddamn it!

He never thought any of his crewmembers would care – it's not like they were _hurt_ by it.

_Tsar's a bastard._

'Mr. Tsar for instance,' Captain Picard jumped in. 'He claims you punched him and then proceeded to kick him while intoxicated in Bar Nine after making an innocent inquiry about Commander Data. In addition, Mr. Veneer states that you punched him several times across the head upon returning from an away mission because he accidentally put Commander Data's life in danger. This, he claimed, angered you to the point of violence. Mr. Lars – your own son – claims that you twisted his wrist in engineering when he was under mental duress.'

Lore was stunned. _It was not just Tsar, but everyone. His entire crew was against him?_

_Wait, not everyone…_

Everyone but Brent seemed to have offered something.

Lore did not stare at the others. He did not want to show the despair on his face, but he knew the Counselor could feel it, and he knew hiding his face would do him no favours.

He knew he had been violent with his crew, he wasn't oblivious to the fact, but he didn't think they would care. Data certainly hadn't raised the matter to officials.

Lore clenched his jaw, his eyes widening. _Data hadn't… _

Data must have been trying to protect him… But now Lore had gone and screwed everything up.

'Are these allegations true, Captain?' Counselor Troi asked softly. 'Please talk to us, Lore. It is important.'

The silence from Lore spoke volumes, and not just to Counselor Troi. He knew he was finished. If he denied it, it was his crew's word against his own. If he admitted the truth, there would be no difference to the outcome. He would lose his rank one way or another. He couldn't win. Nobody could help him. Not even Commander Data.

Even if Commander Data were here, would he help him?

No. He remembered what Data had said before the Betazoid had taken him away.

_'Poor behaviour on your part will not be tolerated in my quarters.'_

Lore was finished. He could not escape. He could not run this time. This was all just an elaborate formality on the part of Starfleet. Did he really believe any of these people cared about him? Riker, Picard, Troi? They just brought him here to take away his ship, his command over the Selene.

If he ran, they would catch him eventually.

_I owe it to Data not to run away this time…_ Lore thought, helplessly.

The dream of Data becoming human returned to his mind. He remembered thinking how he would continue to love the android even if he became a human. He remembered telling Data that he would be willing to set aside his dream in order to help Data pursue his. That was the length he was willing to go in the dream, and he was willing to make that leap now, as much as it pained him to do so - as much as his instincts cried out. But where had his instincts gotten him? Into trouble.

He had to correct his errors. And he was willing to set aside his dream, even if it meant losing his command. If he had to lose his rank, he certainly wasn't going to do it by losing Data as well.

'Lore!' Admiral Riker yelled. Lore jolted in his seat, raising his head.

'I apologize for the delay, Admiral,' Lore said, his voice barely audible. He cleared his throat, his body feeling weak, suddenly. 'The allegations are true.'

'Then you have committed an offense and must face the consequences,' Admiral Riker replied. His eyes scanned Lore's clothes, eyeing them with distaste. 'Counselor?'

The Counselor got to her feet and left the room. A few seconds later she returned, holding a bundle of clothes in her arms. She placed them on the table in front of Lore. They were clothes appropriate for scurrying in Jefferies tubes. Clearly, the only disposable clothes they had that they were willing to give away. Or was this some kind of joke? These were the clothes he wore when he had first been awakened on the Enterprise.

This had all been rehearsed. There was no other way for things to have gone so smoothly.

'How long did you know about this?' Lore asked, weakly.

'I have known about it for about eight hours,' Admiral Riker said. 'Lieutenant Commander Tsar contacted me over a secure subspace channel.'

Lore felt dead inside, like all the life had been sucked out of him. He felt weak and tired, drained. Androids weren't meant to feel that way, meaning it was psychosomatic in nature.

But, at the end of it all, he just kept telling himself that Data would be proud of what he had done. He had been honest and came clean about his poor behaviour. He had admitted his errors. A formal admission of wrongdoing. A formal apology, of sorts. Surely, he would be proud? Wouldn't he?

Lore pulled the clothes towards him and unfolded them. They were a medium size and were very clean and well-ironed. He grimaced.

_Only the best for Starfleet's ex-In-Commands, right?_

Captain Picard's voice reached his ears.

'I am deeply sorry about your loss, Captain, but Starfleet regulations demand-'

'Yes, I am aware,' Lore grumbled. 'I am formally dismissed as Captain of the Selene.'

_Don't need to tell me, old man. I get it. I'll leave.  
><em>

Captain Picard could have smiled, but he didn't.

'Captain Lore Soong, you are hereby formally stripped of rank,' Admiral Riker said loudly. 'Your trial will be held in several weeks. But to be honest, I do not see it going in your favor.'

_No. Neither do I, Admiral._

Lore paused, half way out of his seat.

'Who will Captain the Selene, now? That brat, Tsar?'

'The position is now open, but it will be open to applicants all across Starfleet. Open to androids only, of course, we wouldn't want to interfere with that tradition,' Admiral Riker said, soberly, offering Lore a small smile. Lore did not smile back, he just stared.

Then maybe Data could be Captain... Lore wouldn't want anyone else to take that role. It was his _ship_, damn it! He should get to choose who got to run the thing. But would Data even want to be Captain of the Selene?

_Data..._

Data was still lost in space somewhere, probably being experimented on by some cancer-loaded cyberneticist. Even though Lore couldn't be Captain, he at least wanted to be there when Data was retrieved. He wanted to be there to greet him. His chest ached at the thought of seeing Data. Of his golden eyes, glaring at him.

The last time they had spoken, they had argued about apologies and the past yet again - their broken relationship. Lore had refused to apologize because he felt both Lore and Data were responsible for what had happened - after all, Data had _wanted_ to fall in love, and he so he had given him the damn feelings since he was apparently incapable of generating them independently! Lore had fed them through his communication chip like some kind of drug through an intravenous drip, before weaning him off the stuff - and Data was unhappy with him! _For giving him what he wanted?_

_No, I can't be spiteful anymore. I have to apologize to Data for what I had done to him. For manipulating him before, and destroying his trust. He will not forgive me, otherwise._

'I want to come with you when you deposit the probes into space. I want to be there when Commander Data is retrieved,' Lore said suddenly.

_If he couldn't command a starship at the very least he could be on one. _

'If you want to do that, Lore, you will have to do so as a civilian. You would not to be permitted to interfere with the operations of the Enterprise or the Selene,' Admiral Riker said.

Lore laughed. 'Not interfere? So my expertise means nothing to you. Ten years as Captain on the Selene and I am thrown in the garbage as soon as somebody gets the opportunity, huh?' He scowled. 'Whatever. I guess I deserve it, right?'

As he got to his feet he pushed the red chair he had been sitting on into the table much too viciously, the new clothes in his hand. It made a loud, satisfying banging sound.

Captain Picard and Admiral Riker merely exchanged glances with one another. Lore noticed Captain Picard give a small shake of his head, as if to make some haphazard remark about his temper.

_Whatever._

As Lore walked out of the conference room to the bridge, he heard Counselor Troi's voice in his head.

'You know I'm here for you if you need somebody to talk to…'

Lore ignored her. He walked towards Geordi LaForge at the engineering display and tapped a few buttons on the console to get his attention. When he did, Lore stared into his brown eyes - the eyes that were no longer blinded. He had never known LaForge like Data had, but he didn't know anyone else on the bridge to ask. The rest of the bridge crew were unfamiliar to him. LaForge was an android too, that had to count for something, right? There had to be some unspoken bond between them, however small or by association it was.

'Beam me down to Omicron Theta. Bring me back here when the Enterprise is ready to disembark,' Lore demanded.

'Uh, you're sure you wouldn't want to be beamed onto the Selene?'

'I'm positive,' Lore said through grit teeth. 'I am not in the mood to see my crew – not now, and not in six hours! In case you're not familiar with what's been going on, I was just dismissed as Captain!' He brandished his new clothes in LaForge's face.

'But you'll get a trial, right?' LaForge asked.

Lore scoffed. 'It doesn't matter. I'm guilty. Baldy and Beardy said so, and I admit it freely.'

Lore laughed, suddenly. _Baldy and Beardy. _He could insult his superiors if he wanted to now. Diplomacy be damned! He had nothing to prove to them, anymore. Innocence? What innocence? Lore suddenly felt in a better mood, but his sudden manic glee was only amplified by the depression threatening to engulf him and drag him down to a dark place. A place where his ambitions were crushed and he wasn't going to be the one to save Data.

_Someone else will have to rescue him,_ Lore thought. _I have no power here, anymore. I'm just a civilian. A Captain temporarily relieved of duty, and probably forever._

As LaForge locked onto Lore's coordinates with a few loud beeps and blips from the console. There was a loud whirring sound and Lore's vision became clouded with blue, speckled with white noise. The last thing he experienced before he appeared on Omicron Theta was Geordi LaForge's small smile and a whisper:

'Good luck.'

* * *

><p><em>AN: I get the horrible feeling that I've been rushing the last few chapters, but I'm not sure. I've been getting kinda loopy since uni finished. Thanks for the reviews, again! And to L: Exam periods are rough, I've been there - done that. Hope you do well!_


	19. Escape

Data was alone in the Betazoid's workroom. The lights were dimmed so that the only light came from the tiny machine on the table next to him, the green and red lights glowing, shrouding his skin and the walls in Christmas-themed blobs. They displayed numbers, voltage values.

The transport ship was on night-watch, that much was obvious. Tewa Sekai had gone to bed.

How was he supposed to develop the technology if nobody was here to test it?

_Stop it._

Data blinked. He glanced around the room, seeing nobody.

He heard the voice in his head as if somebody was standing right next to him. It couldn't be Lore's or any other of the Selene crew – they had a particular way of speaking that was unlike his. Even Brent, who seemed to make a habit of imitating him as much as possible, slipped a degree of informality in his voice.

It could not be the communication chip. That was offline now.

Data frowned.

It must have been his voice.

Was he hallucinating? Just how did the Betazoid circuit work?

The Soong-android focused on his neural net, noticing some resistance when he tried to examine the structure and function of the circuit Sekai had devised. As he tried to access the circuit again, he felt as if he had bumped into a large wall. Why was he being denied access to parts of his neural net?

Data suddenly felt the room closing around him, and it suddenly appeared smaller, threatening to crush him. He recognized it as a psycho-sensory embodiment of fear. Fear?

_Why is this experience familiar?_

The android gulped, a loud rushing sound appearing in his ears. His hairs stood on end, and his neural processing increased in speed, his sensory inputs increasing in resolution. His eyes, wide and alert, darted down to look at the titanium plates holding down his body. They were held in place by thick metal spokes at regular intervals at his limbs, essentially encasing him to the operation table. He knew he could not escape in one piece.

_Why do I feel fear?_ Data questioned. _I am here to help with the development of a very important piece of technology. They will not harm me if I follow orders._

Was that not what he was there for?

Data was suddenly reminded of the memory with Lore he had experienced several hours earlier. Data had, against every sensation telling him otherwise, overcame the panic that had gripped him and escaped. Where he had been manipulated and he had resisted. But then why was he feeling fear at that moment? It would suggest the fear was not specific to Lore, but specific to a certain situation – that of being manipulated and controlled.

Am I being manipulated now?

A recent daydream came to his mind.

_'Sir, I believe there has been a breach in my emotion chip program. I find myself unable to stop it on my own. Its influence is spreading rapidly across the cortices, but it is focused most heavily at a neural feedback loop between the frontal lobes and emotion chip. If this is true, then if an exterior presence such as yourself were to bring the emotion chip and thus the Borg subspace communication system back online and feed my neural net a new code to override the current alien influence, there is a high possibility that I may be able to regain full control over my emotional and logical sub-systems.'_

Data felt as if something had broken free inside of him.

_I do not need Lore's assistance to free myself from this code._

Data suddenly experienced the room differently. It looked different. It was no longer a safe place for him to explore telepathic and empathic communication, but a threatening place. A laboratory. A rat cage. And he was the rat.

Data's golden eyes glanced back down at his body, secured by long titanium plates. He examined them carefully, trying to extract as much information as possible from the darkness. The spokes had been welded into the table, large beams pressed tightly against his limbs and across his chest. Titanium was a durable metal. He could not force his way out without causing damage to his peripheral motor and sensory circuits.

Data pulled on his right arm. It only moved about half a centimetre, but his arm was now caught – pinched – against the metal. He tried to turn his arm clockwise, then counterclockwise, moving his arm back and forth to identify the position that would cause the least possible amount of damage. He estimated tearing the lateral biceps and an elbow dislocation.

Data pushed his arm forward as far as it would go, then wrenched with as much force as he could muster in the opposite direction. His arm clanked against the metal spokes, but instead of stopping there, Data kept pulling at his shoulder, reinforcing and tightening the muscles at each juncture in his arm.

A spark appeared by his elbow, the sound of metal being sheared reaching Data's audio-sensors. He kept pulling. The pressure on the spokes increased. He felt his wrist bend on an unnatural angle, breaking. Over the course of several minutes, the pressure on Data's shoulder increased, and Data saw more sparks darting out from under the titanium. The sensor nodes in his joints, his elbow and wrist, were screaming in protest, well above their level of tolerance.

Suddenly, Data's shoulder ripped free of the titanium plates and spokes. There was a small explosion of light as his wrist and elbow became separated from his shoulder and upper arm. A loud crackling noise confirmed the breakage, as well as the sheared bioplast and torn circuits dangling like spaghetti strands from his limb.

The android's face stretched into a smile. There was a way out, after all.

He could see the tiny drones in his shoulder joint wriggling, searching for their now-missing adjacent circuits.

Data did the same with the other arm, but found his legs difficult to manoeuvre.

For now, he had two destroyed limbs and no way to connect his arms back together.

Data accessed his databanks with some force and came across the audio-logs from his recent conversations with Tewa Sekai. He spoke using the Betazoid's voice.

'Computer, commence Holographic program of Counselor Troi of the Enterprise.'

The half-Betazoid woman appeared wearing the lilac uniform of the other transport ship officers. Her black eyes widened in alarm at the sight of Data's limbs. She turned to head towards the door.

'Computer, freeze program,' Data said, again using Sekai's rough voice. 'Override current program behavioural protocols for Counselor Troi Holographic image. Clear behavioural profile. Copy personality profile from the Starfleet databanks of Counselor Troi onto current version. Unfreeze program.'

The Counselor who had been frozen unfroze and turned around. Her face became cheerful. She smiled, but her eyebrows rose at the sight of Data's broken and mangled limbs. His Starfleet uniform was torn, shreds of fabric caught in the spokes.

'Data! What happened to you?'

Data spoke with his own voice, though hushed, in case there were security guards outside. 'There is no time to explain. You must remove my dismantled arms from the spokes, and then break up my legs and remove them, also. Slice them with Sekai's phaser. I believe he left it in his desk. But you must try not to disturb the integrity of the titanium beams.'

If the Hologram could touch the surrounding environment, then she could interact with it. Data had seen Sekai press a phaser against her head. He knew she could wield it.

The Hologram nodded firmly and reached behind the boxy machine on Sekai's desk and held up a phaser. She kneeled by the operating table and held onto it, pointing it between the spokes where Data's arm had been torn up into several pieces. A purple laser emanated from the gun, searing the tissues between the spokes.

Data never imagined he would be happy to hear his bioplast skin melting.

As each piece was sliced up, Troi removed them and dropped them on the floor. Data strained his neck to look at the floor. The tiny drones could be seen wriggling like black maggots at the exposed circuits. Burrned pieces of Starfleet uniform fluttered to the ground. Once all the pieces of Data's arm were on the floor, the Counselor balanced the phaser on the titanium beam across Data's chest and kneeled against the floor.

'Good job, Counselor. Now, place the pieces of my arm side by side so they are linked together. The drones will repair the damaged circuits and restitch the arm together again, but it will probably take five minutes for each limb given the extent of the damage. In the meantime, remove my other arm and my legs then let them repair as well. Then help pull me free of the chest piece and help reattach my limbs.'

Removing and repairing Data's isolated limbs took twenty minutes, and it was the longest twenty minutes Data had ever experienced. Although his internal chronometer gave him a precise indication of the time, the interaction of his emotions with the chronometer was making time seem slower than it really was. The fear he felt made his sensors process temporal interactions at a greater rate. They could be walked in on at any moment. Data was struggling to maintain control over his positronic network. He could feel the influence of the code threatening to overwhelm his mind again. But he would not let it.

As Counselor Troi worked, Data had kept his eyes focused on the door to the room, listening for any disturbances. Occasionally he heard footsteps passing, but they didn't stop by the door. He assumed he and Counselor Troi were quiet enough that they suspected nothing.

_It is curious how Computer control was kept in this room._ Data thought, his eyebrows furrowing. _Surely Sekai would have been aware of my ability to manipulate the Computer._ Data's eyes scanned from side to side, and then he realized. _He must not have anticipated I would be able to override his program._

Data's mangled limbs were now lined against the floor. Counselor Troi stood behind Data and frowned, glancing at a few spokes that were at his neck. It would prevent the rest of his body from being yanked out.

'If you separate my head from my body, you should be able to remove my chest and pelvis structures by slicing them and then pulling it through the gaps like you did with my arms and legs,' Data explained, glancing at her gaping mouth. 'Do not worry, Counselor. I have faith in your abilities.'

She had done a remarkable job retrieving his limbs for a Hologram. The cuts weren't clean, but Data doubted the real Counselor Troi would have done much better. At least the drones could repair the damage.

Data's head was screwed off and placed on the workstation. He felt vulnerable but tried to smother that feeling. If he made himself feel vulnerable the code might take over. He had to be strong.

He examined Troi as she pointed the phaser at his remaining body piece in the operating table and scowled. The purple beam stopped after a few seconds. She turned to look at Data, her eyes wide.

'Data, it has run out of charge.'

Data frowned. He thought carefully for a few moments. Noticing she had only half sliced his upper chest, Data jerked his head at it.

'Try to remove it by force. We can probably connect my head back to my upper chest. If you reattach my arms and hold me to the rest of the body, I should be able to tear the remaining portions out.'

The Counselor looked horrified. Data gave her a reassuring smile, but he wasn't sure how comforting it was. He was still struggling to ignore the fear in his body.

'Do not worry, Counselor, I do not feel pain.'

This comment did not seem to soothe Troi but Data figured it would have to do. It took five minutes for Troi to free the chest piece free, and when she did, it let out a loud shrieking noise as it was separated from the lower half. Data cringed.

Suddenly, there were voices outside the room. Data's eyes widened.

'Quick, reattach me.' Data cleared his throat, accessing Sekai's voice. 'Lock door to workshop.'

He did not know the priority code, but he hoped locking the door would help.

The voices stopped. Data could hear footsteps outside his door stop suddenly.

_They must realize the door was locked by their superior. They must be going to collect Sekai now._

It took a few minutes for the drones to repair Data's upper body and arms, but the voices had vanished. But for how long?

Data felt like some kind of mutant, missing his lower body, not to mention his uniform being completely mangled. Once his head had been reattached to his upper chest, arms attached, Counselor Troi held him by the armpits as he was carried over to the operating table. Reaching between the gaps and badly denting his body with the strength of his grip, he ripped the remaining pieces away and tore them in between the spokes. The Counselor then laid him down and placed the remaining pieces against each other, watching the drones work away and cross-stich the wound back together.

Once his chest had been reformed, Troi pushed the remaining pieces against him like fitting the pieces of a jigsaw puzzle together. If Data had felt panicked before, he certainly felt it now. He was painfully aware that their time was running out, and that he had no escape plan. Once his body had been reassembled, he got to his feet, his Starfleet uniform burned and torn to shreds. His uniform was torn just below his nipples, and his pants barely covered his thighs.

Data frowned, and retrieved the stray pieces of his uniform from the floor and operating table, stuffing them into the workstation drawer, covering it under several large texts on cybernetics and Soong androids. He removed the remaining portions of his uniform and placed them under the books, making sure they were not easily visible. At any rate, it would not go completely unnoticed. The books were about an inch higher than they had been previously.

Data then drew his attention towards the wires and cords extending down his neck and linking him to the machine. He ripped them out of his cortex and stuffed the wires into the drawer, also. Then, he felt the access-plates to his positronic net and carefully closed them.

He turned to look at Counselor Troi. Her eyes were wide and her cheeks were flushed, gazing lock-jaw at Data, her eyes scanning his face desperately, as if to try and prevent herself from looking elsewhere.

It was only then Data realized that he was stark naked.

'Computer, end Counselor Troi program. Delete current file from record,' Data said firmly, using Sekai's voice again.

Now, at least he was alone.

Suddenly, he sensed vibrations on the floor. Three Betazoid were approaching from the hallway using a brisk pace.

They were on their way back. Data bet Sekai would be with them.

Data took a few steps into a corner of the room and turned, facing the operating table, waiting.

There was a loud shuffle outside the room as the three Betazoid came to an abrupt stop outside the workshop. With a hiss, the automatic doors slid open.

Engineer Sekai and two security officers entered the room.

But they were not simple security officers. Data recognized them. One of them was Crax, the tactical officer on the Betazoid ship they had first boarded, one of the men they had captured. The other was Selur, who had been an operations officer and had also helped alter the Starfleet phasers to pierce android flesh. He had been the other hostage.

Each of them carried laser rifles over their shoulders, and pointed them automatically at the operating table as soon as they had entered.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Needless to say, shit's about to get down._


	20. Freedom

Lore beamed down to Dr Maddox's lab, new clothes in hand.

He stood long enough in the room to absorb that his crew, minus Lars, were standing at a workstation against the wall, speaking in hushed voices.

Lore felt a hand on his shoulder and jumped. Spinning around, he came face to face with Dr Maddox. He had an understanding expression on his face, as if he were about to try sympathise with Lore. Sympathise?

'Did you know about this?' Lore hissed, in a hushed tone. His eyes darted towards his crew, feeling sick just looking at them. He didn't want them coming anywhere near him. 'Did you know Admiral Riker was going to strip me of rank when I beamed down here initially?'

'Yes,' Dr Maddox said. He smiled gently at Lore. 'To be frank, Lore, I am surprised you were able to control your violent impulses for so long, given your history with the Enterprise crew and Borg. Ten years is an impressive length of time to not step out of line.'

Lore scowled. 'Well, gee, Doc. Thanks for your faith in me.'

Lore turned and head towards the northward large steel doors before he gave Dr Maddox a piece of his mind, or fist. He scrunched the clothes in his hands and twisted them vigorously, trying to expel some of his anger. If he was going to do anything, he was not going to hurt anybody.

_Data would hate you even more if you did that._

Lore reached the door to Dr Maddox's lab.

He pressed his hands against the large steel doors, eyeing the security guards. They watched him push the door open with blank faces. Lore ignored them and left the laboratory, finding himself in a long corridor. There were security personnel on the other side of the door too. Lore scrunched the clothes up in his hands and walked forward a few paces. The walls of the long corridor were decorated with security cameras and paintings.

They were paintings Data had made over the years. He had donated them to Dr Maddox. Lore walked several meters down the hall, examining the paintings. He stopped in front of one particular one. It was Lore wearing black attire and grinning, holding LaForge's visor to his face.

Lore smirked.

When LaForge gave Data his visor as a keepsake when he was going to undergo transference ten years ago, Data kept had it safe in his quarters. Once, he had reluctantly given it to Lore to play with for a day. Lore had taken great amusement in wearing it and playing a game he had affectionately called Pin The Tail On The Spot. It was a game which had involved trying to chase the late cat Spot around Data's quarters, which had life support at the time on the Selene, and trying to attach a Velcro (Data had insisted on this part) tail to Spot's rear.

Gazing upon the painting, he also remembered the good old days where he wasn't bound by anyone else's protocol but his own. Back then, in the Borg days, he had been able to go wherever he wanted in space, albeit with a stolen shuttle craft. He had explored asteroid belts and planets in his own time, though he often had to avoid Starfleet lest he be captured with a tractor beam. His curiosity had been satisfied in his own time, it hadn't been so bad.

Dodging Starfleet for the rest of his life had not been the best prospect, but at the time it worked out pretty well. That Data had deactivated him and left him to rot among the Borg corpses was just a minor interruption to his plan. That Dr Maddox found him and brought him to his lab to study him was something of a boring disruption, but it had ultimately worked in his favour.

After a decade in Starfleet, he had only knocked around a few of his crew. It wasn't quite the same as murdering the colonists on Omicron Theta or destroying the Borg drones in ethically questionable experiments. At least he didn't have to dodge Starfleet anymore. With rank removed, he was at least still doing better than he had before he had been captured by Dr Maddox. What was the worst they could do to him now?

He didn't need the uniform. He didn't even need the rank. Suddenly, he wanted the uniform off him as soon as possible. The prospect of not having to deal with petty human rules for the sake of flying a starship around sounded very appealing.

Lore turned around and faced the security guards, smirking.

'Sorry, it appears there aren't any change rooms around here.'

Lore pulled of his shirt and unbuckled his belt, facing away from the guards. He slipped out of his black uniform pants, yanking them off from around his boots, not having bothered to take them off first. His boxer shorts were red and black in a cross-hatched pattern.

He stretched his arms out, wearing nothing then but the boxer shorts and his boots. His golden body, arms, legs, and chest glimmered in the overhead lights, though it also revealed the pasty white tones underneath.

He eyeballed a security camera imbedded in the wall. It was inside a half-spheroid dark glass bubble.

_Savour it, Starfleet, because you're probably never going to see this again._

He threw his Starfleet uniform to the floor and pulled the yellow jumpsuit on over his boots. Before slipping his arms into the yellow sleeves, he pulled his head through the thick black turtleneck shirt, adjusting the hem of the black turtleneck so it was straight. He patted down his hair, making sure he was fully dressed before turning around.

He looked at the guards. They were looking at him with a bewildered expression, as if they didn't know whether to escort him away or not. What was the protocol for an android undressing and redressing before their eyes? None, they decided, though it didn't make the situation any less strange.

Lore laughed at them, openly.

Glancing at them, Lore reached down and picked up his red Starfleet uniform. He plucked the metal rank insignia off the neckline like he were picking the petals off a flower. He hummed to himself, a wide grin on his face as he threw them against the wall like pebbles. Once they were all removed, he held the neck of the uniform between his hands with a cruel grin.

_Rrrrrriip!_

He tore the uniform apart, shearing the uniform clean in two. Then he threw it on the floor over the rank insignia and kicked it towards the wall, letting it crumple over itself like some limp animal carcass.

He walked down the hall to his quarters, grinning to himself the entire way.

_Maybe freedom wasn't so bad, after all._

* * *

><p>After exiting the long corridor, Lore arrived to his prescribed quarters, denoted by a flimsy label stuck on the automatic doors. The label slipped off when the doors opened. The makeshift "quarters" were actually abandoned office rooms furnished with spare mattresses from the building's sickbay, but Lore couldn't care less. He didn't even care that the room had no windows, given they were located in an underground portion of the Institute. He didn't need a nice view to enjoy some privacy.<p>

He walked over to the desk which had a console built onto the top of it and pressed a few buttons on the console. He was about to look up the remaining time to the probe completion when he heard the doors to his quarters open with a hiss.

Brent Soong was standing in the doorway. His forehead creased with uncertainty as he poked his head forward.

Lore frowned. What did he want? To gloat?

_Well, he hadn't accused me of any form of violence, anyway. _

'May I come in, sir?' he asked.

'Don't call me that,' Lore said firmly, sitting at the office desk and swivelling the chair back and forth. 'As much as I might like to consider myself your superior, I'm not your Captain anymore. What do you want?'

Brent's eyes widened. 'That would explain the uniform in the hall.'

Lore shrugged.

Brent continued. 'Lore, I wanted to ask a favour. You remember the Bajoran woman who killed herself here several years ago, right? Rin?'

'I remember her, yeah,' Lore said. 'What about her?'

'Well, Dr Maddox refused to transfer the contents of her brain into an android body so I thought I would ask you for help instead.'

Lore snorted. 'What is this? "Mommy won't let me so I'll ask Daddy instead"?'

Brent bit his lower lip. Lore was not Brent's formal guardian, Dr Maddox was - but the spirit of the message was there.

He walked towards Lore's desk. 'I think she deserves another chance. I think she behaved erratically the day she killed herself, but Dr Maddox doesn't think she really was, given her Bajoran background. They're pretty cautious of other species, you see.'

'I do see,' Lore nodded, smiling with amusement. 'But I also fail to see what makes you think I'm going to go against Maddox's word. He runs this building, you know. Not me. I don't want Starfleet chasing after me, so you'll have to find somebody else.'

'There is nobody else,' Brent said, through grit teeth. 'Come on, Lore. Please. I'll help you find Data.'

_How pathetic! He really was obsessed with this woman, wasn't he?_

'Not necessary!' Lore announced, kicking his boots up onto the desk and knocking the console screen around with the heels of his shoes. 'I think Starfleet is pretty capable of finding Data without your help.'

'I could transport you onto the Betazoid ship,' Brent continued.

'And? Starfleet will know I'm on the ship and I will get in trouble for disobeying Admiral Riker's orders. They explicitly said they don't want me to interfere with the rescue operation - and beaming onto the Betazoid ship certainly qualifies as interfering with a rescue operation.' Lore said. He raised an eyebrow at Brent. 'I must say, you never struck me as the type to bribe, Brent. Not as much like Commander Data as you hoped, huh?'

Brent's hands were shaking. Suddenly, his hand jerked to his hip and he pulled out a phaser and pointed it at Lore. Lore noticed there was something off about the phaser. It was a Betazoid phaser, one they had retrieved from the Betazoid ship three days earlier.

He pointed it at Lore.

Lore held up his hands above his head. His gaze was focused on the phaser. If that was fired, his circuits would be fried. He had no doubt Brent could shoot, and he was pretty sure he knew where the weak points in his neural net were also.

_Damn._

Lore opened his mouth to speak, but Brent was apparently not in the mood for arguing any more. He fired the phaser.

The bright purple beam exploded against Lore's left jaw. The bottom left half of his face collapsed. Blobs of melted bioplast slid into the turtleneck of the shirt, raw circuits exposed underneath in a mesh of green and black goo, as if some sort of monster had taken a bite out of his face. The drones whirred to life in Lore's face like busy ants crawling over a discarded piece of food. As Lore's cheek twitched reflexively, a few more blobs of bioplast dropped onto his new clothes.

_I don't think the wash is going to get that out_, he thought, bitterly.

Brent jerked the phaser in a vertical motion, his eyes stern.

Swallowing his pride, still eyeing the phaser, Lore got to his feet. Brent walked behind him and pressed the phaser into the back of Lore's head. The device was hard against his scalp.

'If you don't bring Rin back to life, I'll blow your brain to pieces,' Brent snarled, smacking the back of Lore's head with the back of the phaser. 'So get moving.'

Lore sighed and walked towards the door to his quarters, the other Soong android close behind. By the time they exited, the drones had already restored Lore's face to its normal gold glossiness and Brent had put the phaser back into his belt, his hand placed precariously over it, perhaps to shield the fact that it was not a typical Starfleet issued weapon.

Outside Lore's quarters, the room opened up into a foyer. In the middle of the foyer were several large ferns and blue wattle trees surrounded by a ring of moss-green bricks. The floor and walls were made of black marble with specs of grey and white in them. Lore noticed several security camera bubbles along the walls in regular intervals. After all, this was a high security zone - it was near Dr Maddox's lab. Lore glanced at the security guards standing by the doors to the corridor. They looked at him. Lore gave them a nervous grin.

_Come on, help me! Doesn't this look suspicious at all? An android with a weapon walking close behind another unarmed one?_

The security guards did nothing, apparently too accustomed to seeing Lore and Brent together that the two of them walking together was no threat.

Lore glanced sideways at the security guards as he walked past them, taking the long route around to the plants to the entrance to the transference lab on the opposite side of the room, guarded by a fingerprint-activated door. After all, the Soong Institute knew better than to install voice activated modules in the building, considering how easily they were manipulated by androids.

Once Lore was directly in the security guard's line of sight, he ducked and then rammed into Brent's side, pushing him into the ground. In Brent's surprise, the phaser skidded across the marble floor from his hip.

Lore pinned Brent to the ground with his thighs across his chest, reaching over to the phaser but not quite reaching it.

_Damn it. _

Suddenly, he felt arms around his own. The security guards were pulling him up, securing his arms in a vice grip. Lore felt his legs release Brent from underneath him. Brent's eyes, wide with surprise, suddenly narrowed. Brent scrambled to his knees and reached for the phaser.

_What!? No! _

Lore was being pulled back with some force. He could rip himself away if he wanted to, but he would risk dislocating their shoulders. That wouldn't exactly look good on his personal record.

'Don't take me! Take the Lieutenant Commander!' Lore screamed. 'He has a non-standard Starfleet weapon, look!'

Lore jerked his head at the ground where the Betazoid weapon was located. It differed from a standard phaser on the basis of its internal components, but it had a purple band around the barrel of phaser which made it physically distinguishable from the standard-issue. Lore felt the grip around his arms lessen, and he pushed himself forward. Forward, and down.

Lore saw a blur of yellow as the security guards tried to grab him, but he reached for the phaser despite himself. He landed on his knees before the weapon, but his fingers grasping for an item that was no longer there. Brent had gotten it first. Lore watched as Brent's fingers grasped the thing out from underneath him.

_Fuck you!_

Brent took the weapon in his hands and took several steps back, placing the weapon in his belt. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes briefly. Lore was grabbed from behind, the security officers holding him again.

Of course, to the security officers, it would look like Lore had attacked Brent unprovoked. But a simple examination of his weapon would prove otherwise.

'I am security officer of the Selene,' Brent told the security officers. 'I can escort him from here.'

_You liar_, Lore thought viciously, gnashing his teeth. _You're the Selene's operations officer, jerk. _

It didn't matter, though. Brent was in uniform and he was not. That was all that mattered. For all the security officers knew, Lore was just another Soong android. Apparently it didn't matter that he had walked into the room with the label 'Lore_'_. They couldn't have known he'd had his rank stripped from him. There were several dozen Soong androids at Omicron Theta. He could have been a cleaner gone psychotic for all they knew!

'I am Lore Soong,' Lore said loudly, desperately, feeling the Ensign's elbows knock against his chest. 'Do you know who I am? I was recently stripped of rank. I am not your enemy!'

'We know who you are,' the voices said from behind him. Lore heard a male voice on his right.

'Yes, Mr. _ex_-Captain. You were dismissed for violent behaviour against your crew. We were warned that you might behave like this.'

_Shit!_

'You don't understand,' Lore continued, trying to argue his case, no matter how futile. He tried to avoid Brent's gaze. 'Brent Soong is trying to force me into performing a transference operation. Dr Maddox denied his request earlier. Ask him, if you don't believe me! You'll believe him, won't you?'

There was a long pause as the Ensigns considered his request. Lore heard a woman's voice behind him.

'Mm, if you insist, I will ask, then. But don't move.'

Lore was released from the Ensign's grip. His body stiffened at the sight of Brent, just standing in front of him with his arms crossed. He certainly knew how to play it cool, he gave them that much.

The female Ensign went to a nearby console on the wall, and communicated with Dr Maddox. Lore glared at Brent.

His crew – his ex-crew - was insane. There was no other explanation for Brent's behaviour.

_Like father like son, maybe._

He had never considered Brent one of his offspring even though he had been developed based off the same blueprint Lars had been, a conglomeration of Data and Lore's neural networks. In this case, however, Lore felt his influence on Brent's neural net may have been the reason for Brent's erratic behaviour. Just like mental health issues could be passed along to subsequent humanoid generations through a complex mixture of genetic and environmental factors, his neural patterns, expressed in Brent's positronic net based on that conglomerate blueprint could have instilled patterns in Brent's neural net that made him more prone to erratic outbursts.

_Just like me._

As far as Lore was concerned, he considered all the other Soong androids Dr Maddox's offspring. He didn't like the idea of having several thousand children, anyway. It was ridiculous. A human vanity. But he couldn't help feeling that he was at least partially responsible for Brent's behaviour.

Maybe stuffing a ship full of androids with roughly the same programming blueprint established conditions that made their mental states more prone to deteriorate over time. All of a sudden, the idea of an all-Soong android ship sounded like a pretty terrible idea.

_I guess when your pride is poked one too many times, situations get clearer._

The Ensign returned and moved between Brent and Lore. She aimed a phaser up at Brent, while the other Ensign, a male, pointed the other at Lore's throat. Lore glanced down at it and grimaced. He was surrounded by officers in yellow Starfleet uniforms. He didn't really like that thought, but at least Brent wasn't shooting at him.

'Dr Maddox is coming now,' the female Ensign said. 'He said he will speak to each of you individually.'

Lore might have imagined it, but he thought he saw Brent's mouth twitch. Twitch with a facial tic that typically belonged to him, or maybe Lars when he was rerouting his sensory inputs to his motor systems.

As the doors opened behind them and Dr Maddox appeared in the doorway, something seemed to snap in the other Soong-android. Brent pushed the Ensigns away with incredible force, flinging them into the air and making them land four meters away. The female Ensign screamed in pain as she landed with a thud. She had probably broken a wrist or arm.

Brent pointed the Betazoid phaser at the side of Lore's head. Then, there was a loud zapping sound that overloaded his audio-sensors. A purple flash filled Lore's vision. The beam penetrated the side of his temple and exited the other side. The smell of burning metal was noxious.

Lore staggered, his mind going blank. All thoughts disappeared from his mind. The beam had completely severed his frontal cortex from the rest of his neural net.

So when Brent took his arm and dragged him around the plants in the middle of the room, reaching the large white door with TRANSFERENCE LABORATORY 15 written over the top in big white letters, Lore could do nothing to stop it. His legs moved against his will, because in that moment he had none.

Dr Maddox and the Ensigns were too slow. They couldn't beat an android in a race when he was already ten meters ahead of them.

Brent took Lore's hand and forced his finger over a small blue display next to the door. With a click, it opened with a extended beep noise, the door half a foot wide in thickness. Brent pushed Lore through the door into the dimmed corridor. Lore crashed to the floor and lay there, his mind numb. A temporary rag doll.

Brent shut the door behind them and shot at the finger-print recognition pad on the opposite side with the phaser. It exploded, sparks arcing across the air like a firework display.

Then there was finally silence. The door was a potent sound barrier to the rest of the Institute.

Brent hoisted Lore to his feet and shook him, examining his blank gaze, staring at nothing. After five minutes, his eyes rolled around in his head and focused on Brent.

Lore clutched his newly repaired head in his hands and groaned.

_The hell..._

If he kept getting shot like this the Borg drones would run out. Every time he was shot, drones were killed. Each time his neural network was repaired, the drones would die, and others would consume them. He sensed that their numbers were below critical levels in his neural network. That worried him. The drones in his positronic brain, after all, were different to the ones in his peripheral nervous system. They could not be easily exchanged. Like cells in the body, they had specific targets and preferred regions to lay dormant. It meant he was vulnerable, and any further damage could be permanent.

Lore glanced at Brent through his fingers and spoke weakly. 'Looks like I won't be the only Starfleet officer losing his rank today.'

In response, Brent's cheek twitched with the facial tic Lore knew to be his own. No, he hadn't imagined it the first time. It was the _exact_ same facial tic, with the _exact_ same micro-muscle movements! Despite his imminent danger, Lore was fascinated. He ogled at the android, intrigued that the android that had always acted the most like Data somehow turned out the most like him. Had he been suppressing this behaviour his entire life? It was like he just gave up playing Commander Data.

'I don't care about my rank anymore,' Brent said in a low voice. 'I just want Rin back. I have to show her…' But Brent glanced at Lore and lowered his gold eyes, shaking his head. 'As if you would understand.'

_Crazy bastard. Not even I went to these kind of lengths to help Data. I never threatened another android's life. Human maybe, Borg maybe, but not android.  
><em>

Despite that thought, Lore couldn't help but feel sorry for him. If he had been pushed to a similar limit where Data had died and the only way to bring him back was to attack and harrass someone in a position of authority, would he have done the same thing? Maybe.

The thought horrified him. But it was too hypothetical to take completely seriously. It's not like it was his place to hold any kind of higher moral ground, either. He had done some pretty horrible things in his time.

Lore was about to reply when Brent held the phaser to his head again. But this time, Lore didn't need convincing. He didn't need to be told to be quiet.

He could die if he took another shot to the head.

Lore turned down the dimmed corridor, lit only by mercury filled tubes lining the walls. There were several more security doors to pass through before they reached the transference lab. It was eerie, being in that corridor again. He hadn't been in this particular lab for ten years.

Nonetheless he walked down it, showing Brent the way.

So far, it was exactly as he remembered.

* * *

><p><em>AN: -Insert suspense.-_

_-Insert cliffhanger.-_

_I've had a creative burst the last few days which is why there have been so many chapters posted recently. If I was any more enthusiastic to write I'd wonder if I was having a manic episode. _

_Also I discovered today that the Doc Manager can't have more than 21 documents in it at once or they don't all display when you try to upload a new Chapter._


	21. Space

Data stood naked in the corner of the room and watched quietly as three Betazoid entered the engineer's workshop. One of them was engineer Sekai, the second and third Betazoid were hostages on the Selene once: the tactical officer Crax, and Selur, the operations officer. As they entered, they pointed their laser rifles at the operating table. Selur was the closest to Data's current position.

_Now._

Data lunged at Selur and clenched his throat, pinching his carotid arteries. He held the man in front of him and stepped backwards, carrying the man by the neck with ease. Crax and Sekai watched and tried to aim their rifles at Data's head but he held the man higher, shielding his head with the man's chest.

After a few seconds, the pulse Data felt under his fingertips slowed from a manic beat. Selur's eyes rolled into the back of his head and his head rolled forward. Data dropped him to the floor.

He would be up again in a minute or two.

Now with a clear view, Crax and Sekai aimed their rifles at Data's head, their gaze steady. They fired. Purple streaks crossed the room like lightning bolts, but exploded against the opposite wall.

Data had avoided the blast by ducking, but the beams had burned his scalp. Quickly, he picked up Selur's rifle and snapped the band tying it to his chest. His thumb searched for a stun setting and he found it as a small dial. He turned it until a small light on the side turned from red to yellow.

Aiming at Crax and Sekai, Data fired at each of them. As the beams hit them square in the chest, they flew through the air and hit the wall, sliding down it, defeated. Despite his current state of unconsciousness, Data fired at Selur as well for good measure. The man's muscles twitched as he was hit by the shot.

Data placed Selur's rifle on the floor and then proceeded to undress the largest of the three – Crax. He pulled the lilac uniform on, grateful for clothes though it was imperfect in design. It pinched his body in all the wrong places and had a musky smell. But it was better than running around naked. At least this way, it would save him from rousing suspicion for a few seconds longer.

He kneeled and picked up Crax's laser rifle, slinging it over his chest.

* * *

><p>Leaving the workshop behind him, Data glanced left and right down the corridor, his fingers tightening around the weapon. It was certainly a transport ship. Little effort had been put in to hide that fact. The walls were grey, barren, and covered in metal steel beams. In addition, according to the label over the door he was just in, the workshop room was originally designed to be a storage location for medical supplies.<p>

A study of the walls told Data that no consoles were available in the vicinity. If he could, he wanted to be able to upload the ship's blueprints into his positronic network, or perhaps disrupt the ship's cloaking device. But transport ships were not designed like the Selene or Enterprise and consoles were not as frequently positioned. He would have to find one before one of the Betazoid found him first. Since it was night-watch he estimated that there would be less crewmembers on active duty, but he doubted that would make a significant difference to his plight. Once the alarms sounded it would not matter.

Data considered creating holograms of Sekai, Crax, and Selur to escort him to the shuttle bay but immediately decided against it. Holograms could easily be distinguished from real people by Betazoid – they could sense their lack of thoughts and feelings. In addition, there was no guarantee the hologram system was set up across other portions of the ship. It may have simply been in Sekai's workshop to create the Counselor hologram.

Data heard voices coming from his right and immediately walked left down the hall.

Surely the Betazoid could sense his emotions and the distress from the Betazoid that he had made unconscious. Now that Data thought upon the Betazoid more carefully, the prospect of fighting an enemy that could sense the weak points in a battle situation and sense their enemy's thoughts and feelings became highly unwelcome and dangerous. The Selene crew could communicate with each other, but they could not penetrate the minds of others. The potential of the Betazoid's power for psychological torture suddenly disturbed Data, and he realized the dangerous potential of an android telepathic device of the design Sekai had suggested. Was it truly a matter of equality as he had suggested, or was he trying to design a weapon? A psychological weapon? He had known to use Counselor Troi to try persuade him after all.

Data decided he did not want to know what it might be like to be a prisoner of a Betazoid faction during a war, if such a thing existed, or ever existed. If someone had approached him several months ago and tried to tell him about a hostile Betazoid faction, he wouldn't have said it was impossible. But now, the idea did not seem so unlikely.

_Perhaps that is why the Betazoid are, for the most part, a peaceful race. Maybe their potential for destruction is too great for comfort._

As Data walked down the corridor, he wondered if the Betazoid had a dark past hidden deep in the psyche of their culture. But his thoughts were cut short. He heard voices ahead of him.

Data stopped in his tracks. He was being approached by both directions. He glanced at the rooms on either side of him. The door labels claimed to be medical storage bays, but Data could not be sure. The room he had been in earlier had certainly not been a medical storage bay. Deciding that causing a delay by hiding in a room was more welcome than being cornered in a hallway, Data turned to the left and entered.

He entered what appeared to be a weapons arsenal. The room was small but the walls were lined with all-manner of weapons. There were phasers, laser rifles, and even a few items he did not recognize to be weapons – they appeared to be cortical stimulators. The idea of a dark Betazoid past returned to him. Did they perhaps use cortical stimulators to torture others?

Data heard footsteps outside the room and froze. He realized that he could not possibly hide from the Betazoid like he could from any other race. They could sense his presence and movements by his emotions alone. Maybe the delay caused by hiding in a room was negligible. If this was true, he needed a new strategy.

'Computer, lock door,' Data commanded, borrowing engineer Sekai's voice once again.

He could hear the shuffle of feet outside of the room that he was in. But he heard no voices. It was possible that they had returned to using telepathic speech.

Suddenly, the lights in the ceiling turned yellow and an alarm sounded in the transport ship. Data heard the sound of boots hitting the floor outside the room and knew he didn't have much time left until he was found.

Hundreds, perhaps thousands of Betazoid would now be searching for him, and they all would be able to identify his current location and every future location.

That is, unless he turned off his emotion chip.

Data lowered his eyes.

_If I do not turn off my emotion chip, there is a very good chance that I will die, if I assume Sekai had been aiming at my head in order to destroy me._ Data thought desperately. _To be surrounded with so many Betazoid weapons is extremely hazardous. Their numbers will quickly overwhelm me, and I will be helpless to escape._

Without another moment to think on the matter, he disabled his emotion chip.

Data felt the fear slip away from him in a single moment. More generally, he sensed that he had lost a sense of depth to the world, a sense that was informing him somatically as well as psychologically. The substance of 'emotion' was lost as the chip was deactivated. But he did not have any 'feeling' of loss. He could not feel anything. For the first time in fifteen years, he could examine his current situation with pure objectivity. He regained a mental clarity that he did not have before. If he could feel relief, he probably would have felt it in that moment.

Disabling his emotion chip would not prevent the Betazoid from identifying his current location since they already knew where he was, but it _would_ if he were to change locations. Glancing around the room, he identified two potential points of exit. One was through a large air vent in the ceiling, but Data estimated it would take five minutes to arrange an entry point. Too long, and there would be no consoles in an air vent. They would find him quickly since the sound of moving through an air vent was very disruptive and erratic.

The second point of exit was through the window, into the vast expanse of space outside.

What would happen if he were to cling to the side of a cloaked ship? Would he disrupt the cloak, would the cloak envelop him, or would he appear to float in space clinging to a starship that nobody else could see? He was not aware of any prior circumstance where somebody had tried that particular tactic. Nobody but an android could possibly try it with any possible chance of survival.

If an electrical surge ran through the cloak at the moment of disruption, any human caught in the surge would die. But Data's positronic network could regenerate itself to a point. His peripheral nervous system had a more flexible drone system since it was, compared to his positronic brain, a much less complicated system. He was positive he had enough drones remaining in his peripheral system to survive such a shock, if the Betazoid's cloaking device was anything like the ones he was familiar with.

Data recognized that it was the most dangerous option available, but it would grant him several minutes if he was able to climb back inside the ship at another junction, and the sudden vacuum should deter the Betazoid away from that room for a time.

If he, by chance, managed to disrupt the cloaking device, the ship may appear on Federation sensors and somebody could be sent to find him.

Surely, the potential advantages of that choice outweighed the potential disadvantages.

He knew the Betazoid could not hurt him where they could not reach him.

He was suddenly reminded of Lore's battle tactics. If one were to remove life support in one part of the ship, it could be occupied by an android without major risk. It was, as Lore had called it, the most effective way to disrupt the function of a ship.

_Lore, your methods may be questionable but I believe they are appropriate for the current situation. Your ruthlessness may save my life. If I ever return to the Selene safely, I will be sure to document the event carefully in my logs._

With that thought coming to a completion, Data approached the spherical window located above the rifle rack and grasped onto the metal bar making up the rack with his left hand before punching the large square window to the room with his right one. His fist passed through several layers of the transparent aluminium before it finally broke free into the vacuum of space.

In response to the sudden change in pressure between the room and the outside vacuum of space, the glass shattered instantly. It was blown out, and Data went with it, grasping tightly onto the metal beam to prevent himself from being pushed into space. As his body was sucked outside the ship, he felt an electrical surge pass through his body and over him like a tumultuous wave. The cloaking field had been disrupted by Data's body.

Several flashes of light consumed his vision, his visual sensor arrays becoming disrupted by the cloaking device as it began to consume the room he was currently occupying. He could barely register the room before him, but the brief flashes of neural activity in his retinas displayed to him a gradual disappearance of the room. The cloak was attempting to maintain its stability. But the cloak flickered, making the room disappear and showing only the void of space, and reappearing once more. Each time it appeared and disappeared, Data felt a new powerful surge of electricity flow through his body, temporarily disabling his sensory and motor function.

In a moment of clarity, Data glanced down at his hand that was attempting to maintain grip onto the metal beam.

The cloak field appeared to be trying to maintain a minimal electrical state by passing through his hand, apparently incapable of becoming any more concave without breaking the field. He could tell this because every so often, his hand would disappear with the rest of the ship. As this happened, Data sensed the integrity of his neural sensors and motor fibres in that region of his arm breaking down. The electrical surges were spreading through his body _via_ his hand, the focal point.

Was the cloak disrupted long enough to be detected by a sensor array somewhere?

But before Data could figure out what to hold onto next, the cloaking field stabilised.

Data's left arm exploded between the wrist and elbow from the stress of the field. The electrical surges rattling his body ceased, but Data was no longer holding onto the metal beam. He floated out through the window, and into the void of space. His missing hand was nowhere in sight.

The electrical force required to generate and maintain the field had been exponentially greater than he had anticipated, which suggested the Betazoid had somehow acquired a unique cloaking device. It also meant it would be dangerous to attempt to make contact again. He let himself float away.

Data peered at his broken left arm. The drones squirmed, as if in outrage of the electrical disturbance from the burn that had been made at his lower arm. Data floated gracefully backwards, rotating in a series of extremely slow backflips, surrounded by blackness and stars. If he had simply let go of the beam rather than had his arm explode, he would not be rotating on his current vector. Nonetheless, it caused him no discomfort.

If he were to describe his current sensation, he would liken it to swimming in a vast ocean but not being able to tell which way was up, despite being able to predict his beginning position on the basis of his movements.

He floated backwards and stared around him. He could see no nearby asteroid fields or stars, nothing that might be able to give him some indication of where he was. There was nothing he could grab onto and manoeuvre his way back. The question that now reached his mind was whether the Betazoid ship was capable of tracking him down given it was a transport ship.

Data knew transport ships lacked the sophisticated scanning technology required to analyse debris in space, but the Betazoid's tactics had been strange to begin with. The Betazoid had been able to successfully identify his location and pull him out of the Selene without any particular issues, despite the transport ship's limitations.

He developed a hypothesis based on the available evidence.

If the Betazoid had initially kidnapped him by tracking his communication chip subspace signals, then they should have taken Lore, not him, to the Betazoid ship. Therefore, they had not kidnapped him on the basis of tracking his communication chip subspace signals, since by the time he had been taken, his communication chip had been deactivated..

Then, if they had initially found him on the basis of his emotions while he had been arguing with Lore, then the range of the Betazoid telepathy and empathy was larger than previously known. It would then mean that now with Data's emotion chip turned off, the Betazoid would have no way to track him through space unless they sent out a shuttlecraft.

It would be simple to find him with a shuttlecraft. He was well within the visual range of one and finding his current location would be straightforward given some basic predictions based on his starting location.

He anticipated the Betazoid would try to find him. After all, did he not have a valuable circuit inside his positronic network at the moment, despite it being inactive?

Data frowned in contemplation, scanning his visual field for any indication of a shuttlecraft, but seeing none.

But the Betazoid must have been aware that he had disrupted the vacuum of their ship. The bridge crew would have noticed the power surge in the cloaking system and the crewmembers would surely be telling the Captain, whoever it was, that Data must have deactivated his emotion chip and that he was probably floating about in space right now.

The only reason they would not search for him was if the risk of dropping their cloak device was greater than the risk of losing Data. That could only be true if they were in a hostile or dangerous space system. Federation space, perhaps.

Data realized, then, why he could not see the Betazoid ship reappearing before his eyes, nor a shuttlecraft flying out to collect him. What did they have to lose? Sekai had recorded the nature of his chip with meticulous detail. They probably assumed he would die out in space, and they were probably right.

_Probably, but not certainly. My brother had been in a similar situation before, had he not? After our first meeting and terrorising Wesley, he was beamed into space. He survived.  
><em>

Data glanced around him and saw the void of space in every direction. He tried to gain his bearings.

He could identify no gross constellations or star patterns that matched any currently known in his internal data banks. This was not necessarily a cause for concern, since his positronic brain was not as efficient at correlating such large points of data together. That is what the Selene or the Enterprise ships were good at. The lack of information on his location made it impossible to predict the correct course of action.

_Perhaps it is a good thing that I deactivated my emotion chip. _

He did not feel bewilderment or amusement at drifting through space, but he did recognize that the situation was one that Lore might find humorous, since Lore often liked to laugh at other people's expense when they were in situations of great peril that were also highly unlikely to occur. Data knew it as the element of surprise.

The surprise was the Betazoid, the peaceful race that somehow managed to have access to an extremely power-consumptive cloaking device. Such cloaking devices were several centuries out of date. Why a Betazoid ship would fit an ancient cloak-generating field to their ship was beyond him, unless it was the only one available to them. But why had it not been salvaged into more useful parts? Was there something else to the cloaking device he was not aware of?

_Perhaps the Betazoid do have a dark past. _

Perhaps he, too, ought to find his current situation humorous, since Lore so often complained that Data's sense of humour was lacking. His current situation _was_ highly unlikely and perilous. The android smiled meekly, despite himself.

_This is not how I anticipated leaving the ship. _

* * *

><p><em>AN: Side note, if anybody likes science fiction novels (you're reading this, aren't you?) then I highly recommend The Stars My Destination by Alfred Bester. It's a bit difficult to get ahold of nowadays, but it is a classic and a wonderful book. The only reason I bring it up now is because there are some good drifting in space aimlessly moments in that book which I was reminded of as I was writing Data's last moments here, but the plot has nothing to do with this one. That said, the plot in The Stars My Destination is pretty interesting and it has some novel ideas, so I say check it out._


	22. Bargains

Captain Bluxoy had been standing outside medical storage room thirty-six with five other officers waiting for Engineer Sekai to unlock the door, when there was a loud explosion from inside the room. Before she had a time to react, the lights in the corridor turned an angry red and a siren sounded.

The voice of the Computer boomed throughout the ship. 'Attention all personnel. There is a leak in the ship affecting decks five to three. Life support will cease in thirty seconds. Please stand by for teleportation to a new deck.'

_What!? _

Suddenly, there was a roar in her ears, the voices of hundreds of Betazoid officers screaming out with the terror of possible death. Images flashed across her mind, of officers floating in space with their eyes bulging out of their skulls and of bodies spawled in quarters with the windows blown out, debris and broken glass floating through the air, their lips blue from the lack of oxygen.

_Shut up!_

Bluxoy silenced the voices in her mind and dampened her empathic senses. Alarm had certainly been an emotion she had wanted to keep track of for the sake of finding the android, but now it was nothing more than a nuisance. She ignored the images and let them sink back into her meta-conscious, the filter of the Betazoid conscious mind where a stream of feelings and thoughts that were not her own shifted and settled like the ripples of a pond.

She was teleported to a crowded deck seven. As she appeared, officers thumped into her and each other as they scrambled to find new quarters, meeting with one another silently in the hall like ants sharing the location of some scrumptious abandoned fruit. A few people spoke, but for the most part the hall was quiet. Their minds certainly weren't.

Bluxoy turned to the officers by her side and raised a thin eyebrow. The women who had accompanied her stared at her with bags under her eyes.

'Where is Sakei?' she thought to the officers. She broadened the range of her telepathic reach once she got no response. 'Sakei?'

She heard a male voice speaking in her mind. Unlike the other voices, however, it was like she were listening through a badly tuned radio. His voice jumped in and out of conscious awareness.

'I am – Okay –' Sakei's voice echoed in her mind. 'I need - more psilosynine. Can you-'

The transmission stopped. Bluxoy pinched her nose with her fingers. She hadn't even asked where he was. She sent a telepathic communication to the rest of the Betazoid on the floor.

'Where is Sakei currently located?'

As she waited for a response, she found medical bay ten several meters away and found a hypospray device on the table inside. Searching through several drawers, she found a few black cases and shook them. They were full. Pulling the base out of the hypospray device she emptied two blue cases and shoved the black cases inside, making sure she heard a click as they locked into the device.

She heard a voice in her mind. It was Selur, her head of operations.

'He is with me, Captain. Medical storage room two.'

'I'm the Captain of the Espere, not the Kalen. Don't call me Captain while we're here.'

'You're still my Captain, Captain,' came the response.

_Selur, you dork._

Bluxoy rolled her eyes and left the room, turning left down the hall, her officers close behind. She turned into medical storage room two after a few minute walk.

Selur was pulling a fresh uniform out from a cupboard and handing it to Crax, who was wearing nothing but boxer shorts.

_Do I want to know?_

Bluxoy ignored his scrawny half naked body and walked to Sakei.

Sakei was lying on a bed at the end of the room, a grey first aid blanket draped clumsily around him. He held his head with his hands, curled in a fetal position, his back to the door. Bluxoy pressed the hypospray to his neck. With a soft hissing noise the drug was deposited into his sub dermal tissue. The drug would not begin taking effect for several minutes.

'What happened?' Bluxoy demanded. 'How did the android escape?'

'It doesn't matter how he escaped,' Sakei mumbled. 'He's gone. He will die out there.' The traces of a smile entered his voice. 'I managed to construct a prototype circuit.'

Bluxoy's eyes widened. 'You mean-?'

'Yes,' Sakei muttered, rolling over to look at Bluxoy. His eyes creased with happiness and relief. 'We've done it.'

Sakei reached for Bluxoy's hand, but the woman's hand was suddenly pulled away by one of her officers. The woman who had taken her hand was tall, with ginger hair and a pasty completion. She glared at Sakei.

'Come now,' Bluxoy crooned, turning to the woman and teasing her hand out of her grip. 'Jealousy is unbecoming of you, Anna.'

Bluxoy took Sakei's hand in her own anew and patted it, gently. 'Do you think you could withstand surgery? We need to create false identities – change our appearances. The androids know who we are. They surely would have informed Dr Maddox. He would not let us undergo the operation with these faces. In fact, we would be immediately arrested for terrorist activity against the Federation.'

Selur appeared by Bluxoy's side. He spoke with a hoarse voice at first, unaccustomed to speaking out loud. 'I promised the Romulans access to the technology in exchange for their weapons and cloaking devices. So they may be willing to help us change our identities. At least we could then confirm that the circuit indeed works before we make the exchange.'

Sekai glowered at Selur and rolled back to face the wall. Bluxoy sensed despair emanating from the man.

Bluxoy frowned. She knew Sekai never liked the idea of selling out his work for help from the Romulans, but their technology had been required in order to develop the circuit in the first place. Without it, they wouldn't have been able to go near any androids or stay hidden as they tested their circuits on test subjects. Data had not been the first, but Data had been the only one Sekai had managed to collect with the Borg communication chip, even though the program associated with it had been deleted. For whatever reason, other androids didn't use them. Perhaps they had an inherent paranoia about the Borg technology, Bluxoy hadn't been sure.

But Bluxoy knew the Romulan technology had been necessary. It was their cloaking device that had allowed Data to be captured in the first place. They had taken the Selene by surprise, and it had worked magnificently.

Besides, Bluxoy noted, he was requiring increasingly large doses of psilosynine in order to keep his telepathic circuits at a minimal functional level. Soon, the tumour would probably consume other parts of his brain. If the Romulans would help him attain his goal, did the means really matter?

Well, apparently it did to Sekai. His mind was shrouded in guilt, Bluxoy could sense it.

'We should move out of Federation Space and into the Neutral Zone,' Crax advised, now completely dressed. He moved next to the group huddling by Sekai's makeshift bed. 'If any starships detected our cloaking malfunction they wouldn't dare search for us there.'

Bluxoy turned to Crax and gave him an incredulous look. 'Tell that to the Captain of the Kalen, not me! I am just a passenger on this ship.'

Crax grinned sheepishly. Bluxoy leaned closer to Sekai. 'Do you think you're up for surgery?' she repeated.

Sekai cleared his throat and spoke in a soft voice. Bluxoy could sense that he was in incredible pain at that moment, struggling to maintain control over his mind. 'I will have the surgery. But _before_ we get to the Neutral Zone to speak with our Romulan friends, could I _please_ have some peace and quiet? It's _meant_ to be night time.' He spoke the last few words through bared teeth.

_Very well._

Bluxoy rest her hand on Sekai's curly head for a few moments before Anna tugged at her arm.

Bluxoy took Anna's hand and left the room, leaving the hypospray by the bed. The other female officer followed close behind Anna.

Crax left a few minutes after Bluxoy did, leaving Selur the only one standing by his bed. There were a few minutes silence before conversation began.

'You hate me, don't you?' Selur said, suddenly. 'You know, just because you're dying doesn't give you the right to hold the higher moral ground over me. Contacting the Romulans was the only way we could have helped you. I _did_ it to help you. To help _us_.'

Sakei rolled over and sat up in the bed, his bloodshot eyes staring at Selur. He furrowed his thick eyebrows. 'I just don't think you realize something. Sharing this technology with the Romulans could start a war. The Federation, if they shared it with all androids, wouldn't have given the Romulans the technology since it's against their ruling, but we _are_. And the twisted thing about it is that it's the best way to protect our heritage, to keep our Betazoid telepathic circuit secret. And that's because we're sharing it with as few third parties as possible. It just so happened this third party had technology we needed, and was willing to cooperate with us. The thing is that the Romulans have been trying to gain the higher ground over the Federation for decades, and now we're giving them the upper hand. They could create an army of android killers. Do you realize that?'

'That doesn't answer my question,' Selur asserted. 'Stop dodging the question.'

Sakei sighed and rolled over in the bed, clutching his head. The pounding headache was a sharp pain around his temples. He clamped his eyes shut. The migraines were a side effect of the telepathy-enhancing drug but he had never gotten used to them. Did Selur really have to be so harsh with him? His waking hours were mostly spent in semi-delirium from all the drugs he had been taking. The only reason he had any clarity with Data was because he was doped up on several different kinds of painkillers and cortical stimulants. It hadn't been easy.

_Why is it so important if I hate you or not? Maybe you just can't fully live with yourself either. Maybe deep down inside you know what we're doing is dangerous, and you just can't deal with the fact that you might be a dangerous person – an unreasonable person. Well, we are! There's no point running from the truth. We may be protecting Betazed now, but are we really? That remains to be seen. You can't escape the uncertainty of the future, Selur._

But as Sakei thought this, he realized the drugs hadn't kicked in yet and his thoughts were merely echoing in the confines of his own mind, not being projected out to others. But he was too weary to feel irritated at that. He spoke his message to the wall, but he knew Selur could hear him.

'So to answer your question, no, I don't hate you. I just hate how you're lying to yourself. We're enemies of the Federation now. We may be contributing to a potential war. We may be responsible for many deaths in future, and all because we want to keep Betazoid circuits as secret as possible - because we don't want to fall behind other species who can become androids with so little loss.' Sakei sighed. 'I just don't think it's right to deny the possible implications of this. I think it will probably be worthwhile, but there's a possible devastating cost. I just want you to be aware of it. I don't want you to deny it.'

Sakei knew he must have heard him. He could hear Selur's breathing quicken in pace for a few minutes before he closed his mouth. Sharp footsteps reached his ears.

Selur had left, perhaps brooding over their current state of affairs. The sliding doors to the medical storage room closed after him.

Sakei instructed the computer to dim the lights of the room. As the light behind his eyelids faded, Sakei sensed his meta-conscious become clearer in response to the drug. The migraine started to disappear. As he became aware of the stream of thoughts and feelings roused in the starship, he became aware of a series of thoughts stating that they were moving into the Neutral Zone.

_We can't run away now. _Sekai thought. _The Romulans would attack Betazed if we refused to keep up our side of the bargain. _

Helplessness overwhelming him, he thought about the circuit he had devised with Data's help and breathed deeply, imagining himself reborn as a new android.

He would no longer have to rely on drugs in order to have his telepathic and empathic senses - to not be depressed and anxious. His death would no longer be creeping up on him, a ticking time bomb in his own head. He would be strong, intelligent, and resilient. But the most important thing would be that he would be alive and healthy, and he could be proud to call himself a Betazoid. He would have upheld his traditions. He would have helped them progress into the new era of androids. They would finally be on a level playing field with the other races.

_It won't be much longer now…_


	23. Dishonour

Admiral Riker was standing on the bridge to the Enterprise, running his hands over the top of the First Officer's chair, currently empty.

Captain Picard turned to glance at Riker, a small smile crossing his face.

'Feeling nostalgic, Admiral?'

Admiral Riker gave the Captain a broad grin. 'You could say that.'

Suddenly, the doors to turbolift one opened and a tall blonde-haired officer walked onto the bridge. Admiral Riker released his grip on the chair. The officer walked over to Admiral Riker and held out her hand. Admiral Riker shook it before taking a step back.

'Good to see you, Admiral,' the woman said.

'Same to you, First Officer,' Admiral Riker said, before grinning sheepishly and motioning to the chair. 'I hope you don't mind, Commander Shelby, I was just reminiscing on old times.'

Commander Shelby sat down at her seat. She stared at him appraisingly, a small smile on her face.

Shelby had been competition with Riker during her placement on the Enterprise when they were escaping the Borg. She had been placed with them due to specialized knowledge on the Borg.

Given her ambitious nature, it came as no surprise to him that Shelby had applied for the position of First Officer, nor that she had succeeded. Riker imagined Captain Picard and Shelby may have exchanged many stories about the Borg.

Thinking on the Borg, Riker wondered how she had felt about the Captain of the Selene being on the Enterprise several minutes ago. Perhaps she had avoided the bridge until now because she did not want to see Lore.

'What do you think of Lore, Commander?' Riker asked.

'I noticed you did not say Captain Lore,' Commander Shelby said smoothly, quick to pick up the details. 'Then am I correct in assuming that he was dismissed?'

'Naturally. One does not normally commit those kinds of acts in Starfleet - and as a Captain no less - and get away with it,' Admiral Riker replied, frowning for a moment and shaking his head. He sighed. 'You know, it is never easy to strip somebody of rank.'

Commander Shelby raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

'I may be an Admiral, but I hope you feel free to speak candidly with me, Commander,' Admiral Riker stared at Shelby appraisingly, noticing her reservations. 'I take it Lore's Captainship did not meet your approval?'

'With all due respect, sir,' Commander Shelby began. 'No.'

'Why?' Admiral Riker queried. Given Lore's experience with the Borg, Riker imagined Commander Shelby might have appreciated him sharing his knowledge of them with the Federation. When Commander Shelby was silent, he pushed. 'I am merely curious as to how a First Officer could come to disrespect a respected member of Starfleet. Think of it as exploring human psychology. For instance, I would not want to lose your respect, Commander.'

Admiral Riker grinned charmingly. The sides of Shelby's mouth turned upwards, but her eyes were dark.

'To be frank, Admiral, I feel this _tolerance _of Lore has been unwarranted given his history with the Borg. I think Lore only became Captain because he was receiving special treatment from Dr Maddox. Dr Maddox so quickly became an important figurehead in Starfleet ten years ago and given Lore had helped Dr Maddox with his research, it was only natural that he would want to do something for him in return. That Lore became Captain so quickly when Starfleet was clamouring for Dr Maddox's favour was no coincidence.'

'So you believe Lore only became Captain because Starfleet was trying to gain Dr Maddox's favour.'

'Yes,' Shelby replied, crossing her arms. 'And while I do recognize Lore's contribution to Starfleet's knowledge on the Borg, to me that does not excuse his past behaviour. To be frank, Admiral, I find it hard to forget what Lore is,' Shelby straightened her posture in her chair.

'And that is… a murderer?' Riker asked. Shelby nodded.

'I am not the only one who harbours these feelings, Admiral. A lot of us in Starfleet have been waiting for a moment like this - to see Lore lose his position in Starfleet. We do not feel he deserved the position to begin with. He was a cheat, and he pulled at Dr Maddox's heartstrings to get a nice starship - there is nothing respectable about that. And to think some compare the Selene to the Enterprise, as if their Captains were of the same caliber!'

'I am aware,' Riker began. He knew all too well how other members of Starfleet had felt about Lore being Captain. Perhaps he should not have put it past Commander Shelby to feel the same. Even within his own rank, many Admirals openly expressed concern about Lore's late position. They had tolerated him because they did not want to receive any backlash from Dr Maddox, but Riker knew they would be privately celebrating Lore's loss of rank, perhaps with champagne in their quarters. It was not the way Admirals ought to be treating such a sensitive problem like physical assault on one's crewmembers, but he knew deep down that didn't mean much to them. It was the means to the end they had been hoping for.

When it came down to it, Lore had not been the only android Captain in Starfleet. But he had been the first, and the only one with such a dubious history. In the eyes of others, his recent behaviour would only confirm that history and confirm suspicions that Lore was not trustworthy. But Admiral Riker was more hopeful.

He had to be, for Data's sake.

'With all due respect, Commander,' Riker started. 'I feel a good personal and professional policy is to give people the benefit of the doubt. I do not respect Lore for what he did to the Borg or what he did to the inhabitants of Omicron Theta – I don't think any reasonable person would - but ten years of service, even from somebody I may not like very much, is worthy of my respect. That he eventually lost his rank is irrelevant. He did good work, and I think it would be unfair to Lore to ignore that.'

'Well said, Admiral,' Captain Picard said, having listened intently to the conversation. 'I feel much the same way, though I do share my First Officer's concerns. I am also disturbed that after ten years that Lore felt the urge to be _violent_ with his crew. I thought he had come to control his urges, and ten years of a clean service record certaintly supports that. Therefore, I cannot help but wonder if this reflects a more insidious problem, perhaps one that had gone unnoticed. Perhaps androids are less resilient to stress than we had previously thought.'

Admiral Riker smiled faintly.

Captain Picard, always the humanitarian.

'One thing I noticed,' Riker began. 'Is that these violent outbursts of his started once Commander Data was kidnapped by the Betazoid resistance. I do not think that is a coincidence.'

'They were brothers,' Commander Shelby interjected. Her voice suddenly shook with anger. 'That doesn't excuse his behaviour but it is another thing that bothered me – that Lore, with no experience in Starfleet, suddenly outranks Commander Data who was the only individual who really deserved to be Captain of the Selene.'

'As much as I am inclined to agree with you,' Admiral Riker said. 'The law states that he was equally qualified as Commander Data was.'

'Yes,' Captain Picard agreed, suddenly addressing Commander Shelby. 'On that note, I can see that you do not like Lore, Commander, and I do not blame you for that. But try to understand that Commander Data never applied to be Captain of the Selene. Out of all the other android applicants, Lore was the favoured choice.'

'A biased choice,' Commander Shelby said. 'On that note, I do not understand why Commander Data chose to become First Officer and refused to apply for the Captain's position. I think he would have done well.'

'So do I,' Admiral Riker said. He glanced at Captain Picard. 'But that is Commander Data's choice, not ours.'

Admiral Riker and Captain Picard exchanged a long gaze. It spoke volumes that aroused Commander Shelby's suspicion. She stared between the two, a look of curiosity crossing her face.

'You both worked alongside Commander Data for many years. Do you know why he made that decision?'

Admiral Riker was silent for a few moments. He spoke cautiously.

'Yes. We know. But that is Commander Data's business. It is not for us to discuss.'

Yes, it was Commander Data's business.

Admiral Riker wasn't about to tell Commander Shelby the truth. He wasn't about to say that ten years ago Data had gotten into a romantic relationship with Lore.

Admiral Riker remembered how Lore had appeared on the Enterprise with Lars out of the blue ten years ago and claimed to be on shore leave from Dr Maddox's experiments. That Lore was suddenly on the Enterprise was surprising enough, and the Enterprise crew were already suspicious of him. When they learned that Lore ended up using the Borg chip he had designed to 'teach' Data how to love by feeding him thoughts and feelings, Riker had to admit he was concerned. Deeply concerned. All the crew were. Data was not merely their colleague, but their friend. They _owed_ him their concern.

Lore had claimed that Data had made the choice to be taught willingly. Riker hadn't believed him at the time. How could he?

They could remember what Lore had done to Data many years prior, when he was allied with the Borg - albeit the deranged and confused Borg. They couldn't simply stand by and let something like that happen again. To let Data be controlled, manipulated, all in the name of feeling emotions. They couldn't bear to let that happen.

He remembered how Data had discussed his concerns with the the crew. As it turned out, the implications of what Lore's suggestion had not escaped him either. But, as Data had explained, he felt the risk was worth it. With the Borg Data had no influence over the feelings of hatred, anger, and pleasure that Lore had given them to him. This time was different though. Data's behaviour did not strike Riker as suspicious. Riker had every reason to believe Data had made this choice willingly, so they had backed off. They kept a close eye on Data as time went by, though, just in case.

It had been strange to see the two androids leave quarters together, to leave the Holodeck together, to spend time at Ten Forward together. It was weird, Riker felt, to see Data genuinely enjoy Lore's company. But even Riker had to admit Lore could be charming once he had toned down his anti-social tendencies.

It was as if Data's obsession with his quest had suddenly reached a new peak. But Riker knew that wasn't the sort of thing that was easily faked. Riker knew Data had been disappointed with how Lars had turned out – it had probably made him feel desperate - made him think that he would never love anybody else, that he would never get that chance again. Maybe he was right.

Despite that, Riker could never quite shake the feeling that Lore was influencing Data more than he was letting on, more than Data was aware.

_But that was the risk he took._

As strange as it had seemed, Riker knew it had not been – and was not - his place to judge Data's relationship. If Data's desire to become more human extended to a need to experience romantic relationships, and if he decided to put that pursuit above his career, who was he to question it? He didn't have to agree with it, he didn't have to like Lore, but he knew how important Data's quest was to his identity. To try and separate Lore and Data would have been to question Data's judgement, to question the utility of his quest.

_Data would not have forgiven any of us if we had done that._

Given Lore's reputation in Starfleet, as soon as he and the rest of the Enterprise crew had gained wind of what was happening, they had kept the nature of their relationship secret, even once Data had left the Enterprise. They treated their relationship like they would any other – after awhile, the rumors ceased to be important and people got over it. People stopped talking about it. And whenever somebody brought Lore and Data's relationship into question they all fell back onto their automatic response: 'They're brothers. They're loyal to one another.'

Riker had not talked with Data much about his relationship with Lore since Data had left the Enterprise and transfered to the Selene, being promoted to First Officer in the process. The Selene was often away for years at a time and when the Selene's crew returned they did not stay for long. They took enough time to take shore leave and restock supplies, but no longer.

Riker knew Data and Lore had ended their relationship after a five-year long stretch, but he didn't know the details. When he last communicated with Data, the android was hesitant to discuss the reasons. He seemed content to keep explanations simple.

'I believe my relationship with Lore has been distracting me from my duties as First Officer, Admiral.'

It had been a lie, but Riker had not pressed Data for details.

_As long as you're happy, Data._

The silence was long enough to arouse Commander Shelby's suspicion, but she seemed to give up asking questions.

'Well, at least Lore will no longer be Captain,' Commander Shelby said, breaking the silence and shaking the Admiral from his internal dialogue.

Admiral Riker flexed the muscles in his neck. 'It certainly does not seem like the trial is going to go in his favour.'

Suddenly, their conversation was interrupted by the Enterprise's tactical officer.

'Captain Picard, we are being hailed on a long-distance channel.'

Captain Picard glanced at Admiral Riker before getting to his feet and adjusting his uniform. 'Very well, Lieutenant, on screen.'

On screen was Captain Worf of the USS Defiant. His image on the view screen flickered in and out, the resolution of the connection hampered by the long distance.

'Captain Worf,' Picard beamed, pleased to see his old Lieutenant. 'What is the problem?'

'As you know, Captain,' Worf began, nodding at Picard with a serious stare, 'Starfleet has been on alert for sightings of any Betazoid vessels that may have taken Commander Data. Betazoid transport ships, for example. We believe we may have detected one of them on our long range sensors.'

Admiral Riker stepped beside Captain Picard, his eyebrows furrowed with uncertainty. 'The Betazoid vessels used by the resistance have been equipped with cloaking devices. I find it hard to believe they would roam Federation space without them. Are you sure this isn't just a freighter, Mr. Worf?'

'I am positive, Admiral. Our sensors detected a transport ship appear and disappear on our sensors, but we detected no warp drive residue in the area. This is consistent with the use of a cloaking device. It may have malfunctioned from extended use. I believe it is them, sir. I request Starfleet sends several ships to join us at the outer banks of Neutral Zone to detain them.'

Picard blinked. 'They are near the Neutral Zone? Do you think they are changing position?'

'It is likely,' Worf began. 'If they are, I suspect they are using impulse speed to hide their movements. In addition, if they were near the Neutral Zone it might be correct to assume that they are working alongside the Romulans.'

'We have no direct proof of that yet, Captain,' Picard began, nodding at Worf, 'But it is a possibility we must keep in mind. We must not discount the possibility that they may be near the Neutral Zone so they have somewhere to retreat to in a sticky situation. With their cloaking devices, they would be unlikely to arouse the attention of any Romulans who may be scouting their territory nearby. That is, if the cloaking malfunction was temporary.'

'I find their proximity to Romulan territory too close to be a mere hiding tactic, but we will see,' Worf said, the corners of his lips curling. He looked expectantly at Picard. 'When can I expect the Enterprise and Selene to join me?'

Captain Picard addressed his operations officer. 'When is the soonest we can reach the Neutral Zone, Lieutenant Commander?'

The woman's fingers darted across her console. She spoke in a steady voice. 'Two hours at warp nine, Captain. Shall we abort the production of the matter-displacement probes?'

'No. I believe we may still have use of them. Any left over could be salvaged and Lore's generous donation returned. Begin loading as many probes onto the Enterprise as possible. We will leave in ten minutes,' Captain Picard said before returning his gaze to Worf. The monitor was filling with more and more static as the Defiant drifted further and further away from Omicron Theta. 'I am afraid it will take us some time to find a new Captain for the Selene. Lore was stripped of rank today, so we must find somebody to replace him.'

'Stripped of rank?' Worf growled, his voice filling with disgust. 'The only way this could have happened was if he acted dishonourably in his position!'

'Indeed, you could say that,' Captain Picard said calmly. 'We can discuss it later, Mr. Worf. Forward the rendezvous coordinates to the Enterprise as soon as you have decided upon a destination. I will forward it to the Selene and try to figure out which of Lore's crew is best suited to be Captain for the duration of this mission.'

Worf seemed to consider his following words, but decided against restraint. He scowled. 'Pah! It concerns me that after ten years in the Federation that _Lore_,' his voice dripped with malice, 'proves that he is still worthy of our scorn! We should have never had let him become Captain.'

Perhaps encouraged by Worf's distaste for Lore, Commander Shelby got to her feet and puffed out her chest. 'Captain Picard, I request permission to Captain the Selene.'

Captain Picard shook his head firmly. 'No, Commander Shelby, I want you on the Enterprise with me. Besides, I do not think you are familiar with the conditions the Selene typically operate on. They do not keep life support active on their ship. It may take an hour for the Selene to reach a temperature appropriate for human comfort and to reach a level of oxygenation that was appropriate.'

'I think the Selene could manage a human on board. If I remained on the bridge the time to restore life support would be negligible,' Commander Shelby asserted. She was about to sit down again but decided against it. Her voice softened. 'Captain, please reconsider if you find none of the Selene crew fit for taking up Captainship.'

'Very well,' Captain Picard said quickly. He turned to Worf. 'We will see you soon, Captain.'

As the view screen returned to the Enterprise's orbit of Omicron Theta, Captain Picard turned to Admiral Riker. The Admiral nodded and turned to the operations officer.

'Beam me down to the surface, Lieutenant Commander,' Admiral Riker said, staring at the viewscreen with a steady gaze. He was eyeing the Selene in orbit several hundred kilometres away. 'The Selene is missing its crew and is in urgent need a Captain.'


	24. The Body

Brent held the phaser against Lore's head as they walked forwards in the dimmed and narrow corridor.

The administrator had told him Rin's brain was stored in this laboratory facility somewhere.

A facial tic ravaged Brent's features. It distorted the large scar that descended from his right sideburn to the side of his mouth. The day he had decided to keep the scar had been the day he had vowed not to give up on Rin.

Suddenly, Commander Data was standing at the end of the corridor, a stern look on his face. His presence was eerie and Brent had the distinct impression he was looking at a ghost. But Commander Data wasn't dead... was he?

As Brent reached the door at the end of the corridor, Brent stared at his hands, making every effort to avoid looking at Commander Data's face. He knew what he would see there. _Shame._

'Look at me, Brent,' Commander Data said, his voice soft.

His voice echoed with an etheral quality as if he were not really there. But the quality was captivating.

Entranced by the sound, Brent slowly raised his head to look into Data's face. Data's golden eyes were overshadowed by a deep sadness. Commander Data looked very much real and solid, but his body captured more luminance than anything else in the room.

'I know I have disappointed you, Commander,' Brent told him, his voice barely louder than a whisper.

Data's voice boomed in his head as if he were standing all around him, not merely in front of him.

'You do not understand the severity of your actions. You have made a grave error in coming here today.'

'But why?' Brent whispered. 'Rin shouldn't have died. I am doing her a favour.'

'Have you thought about what you will say to her when she wakes up?' Commander Data asked. 'Will you lie to her, or tell her the truth?'

Brent's eyes widened. 'Lie? I do not understand what you mean.'

Commander Data leaned in and held a hand against Brent's shoulder. 'You may not be aware of this, Brent, but Juliana Soong, my mother, died as a result of the Crystal Entity's attack on Omicron Theta many years ago. Dr Noonian Soong brought her back to life as an android but told her she was human. He was lonely and desperate, but what he told her was a lie - she was not a human anymore. When I came to learn of this situation, I also decided to let her live life believing she was human. It seemed to be the merciful choice -'

Brent's eyebrows furrowed. 'But – but you're a hypocrite! You – you claim that androids are a race and that it's wrong to consider an android as anything other than what it is. You and Dr Maddox! And yet you tell me this story and tell me that it was okay to let Juliana live her life believing that she was a human despite being anything but. You're a hypocrite!'

'I never said it was okay,' Commander Data asserted. 'It was a difficult decision for me to make. I was not the one who made the mistake of bringing Juliana back to life and lied to her from the beginning. That was Dr Soong's error. It is cruel to tell somebody a lie like that only to satisfy one's selfishness - it serves no greater purpose. I am no hypocrite, Lieutenant Commander. What Dr Maddox hopes to accomplish with transference does serve a greater purpose – and it is not one founded on lies.'

Data paused, closing his eyes for a brief moment. 'My point is that I do not think Rin will be able to live with herself if you tell her the truth - that she is an android. It would violate her very being. It would be cruel. But if you lie, you would repeat a mistake Dr Soong made - and that would be equally wrong. You would be doing something selfish. I do not want either case to happen. Stop what you are doing, and you may yet be forgiven for your actions.'

Commander Data smiled warmly at Brent, but Brent's hands shook, the phaser in hand. If telling Rin the truth was a mistake, then he'd rather have Rin tell him that, not Commander Data. Commander Data didn't know who Rin was.

_But do I?_

Brent screwed his eyes shut. No, he didn't know, but nonetheless he thought she deserved another chance. He wanted her to reconsider her position. It was_ her _choice to make - not Dr Maddox's and not Commander Data's.

'You do not know what you are talking about, Commander. You are ignoring the autonomy of the woman I am trying to save.'

Commander Data looked reproachful. 'Save? You use the present tense incorrectly. She is already dead, Brent.'

'That doesn't matter anymore,' Brent hissed, his voice getting louder. 'I can bring her back. She will make the choice whether to live or not, not you!'

Brent held the phaser up in front of him and pointed the end of it in front of Data's face. He fired it. The hallucination disappeared. The phaser blast exploded at the end of the corridor. He found himself ten feet backwards from where he had been previously.

* * *

><p>As Lore reached the next door, he heard the whirr of a phaser blast and ducked as the beam exploded above his head leaving a sear mark on the large white door. He turned to see Brent standing at the end of the hall, motionless. He was staring at something next to him. Something Lore couldn't see.<p>

_Uh oh. _

'Brent?' Lore offered, his voice echoing down the dark corridor. 'Are you okay?'

Brent's head jerked and glanced around the room as if looking for something. Apparently giving up on his search, he arrived at Lore's side and nudged the phaser into the side of his head. His eyebrows were narrowed, his eyes avoiding Lore's gaze. Lore grimaced.

_Forget I asked, then._

Lore raised his hand to the silver number pad on the side of the large door. He keyed in the sequence. After he removed his hand, the door beeped in a cheerful way. Lore twisted the door handle and tugged on it. The door yawned open, revealing a corridor running perpendicular to their current location. Lore strode into the room and glanced between two doors either side of him. On the wall in front of them, visible as one enters the room, was a painting by Data. It was a painting of Dr Soong's workstation on Omicron Theta. But Lore did not have the time to pay much attention to it.

Lore glanced behind him to check he had Brent's attention and then pointed to the left door first.

'That one contains all the brains and bodies in storage. They are identifiable by an alpha-numeric code,' Lore began, 'The other is where all the bodies are located. Ten years ago it would have taken several days to construct an android body, but the process now takes several hours. The details of why and how are long and boring, you probably don't want to hear them.'

Brent pushed past Lore's side and stared at the painting for several seconds. Lore watched his gaze follow the gold signature Data had left on the bottom most corner of the painting in a blocky letters. His golden eyes were glossy as if his mind was elsewhere.

Brent tried to pull the leftmost door open, but it remained stationary. Lore cleared his throat.

'Computer, authorisation code Lore-two-gamma-thirty-seven.'

Suddenly, both doors in the room unlocked with a loud buzzing sound. Brent tugged on the left door and rushed inside into the darkness. Automatic lights luminated the room and cast a light across the adjacent room where Lore was standing.

Lore waited at the main junction and waited while Brent searched for Rin's brain. He looked at the painting and considered it for a moment. The painting hadn't been there the last time he had been there. Did that mean Data had visited the lab? Or was it just Dr Maddox? Or whoever maintained the place?

Lore listened to the dull footfalls of Brent's boots to distract himself. Brent was shuffling along aisles upon aisles of what were essentially brains in boxes – to be more precise, brains in isolated cooler-tanks containing ethanol and glycol chemical mixtures. Lore could smell traces of bleach coming from the lab.

As Brent returned to the junction carrying a square black box under his arm with the alpha-numeric code f028bjrn displayed on a small monitor, Lore sighed and opened the other door for him. He let Brent go in first this time as Lore decided to take some time to examine some of the android bodies lined along the walls.

He saw the android bodies of Klingons, Ferengi, humans, Vulcans, Cardassian, all with their eyes closed and wearing clothes their owners had given them. Lore glanced at the labels on them. They were not due to be activated for several weeks, perhaps delayed due to the Betazoid attacks. The android bodies here had been constructed minus their positronic brains. The owners of the real brains were probably already alive, but waiting for the time when they wanted to commit to the procedure. That was another possible reason for a delay.

He reached the end of the corridor where six large humanoid-sized tubes were carved out of the walls at each interval, two per wall. They were similar in appearance to magnetic resonance imaging machines of the 21st century, but were much more ambitious in design given their purpose. Along the perimeter of the cylinders were black replicator plates.

In the centre of the tube room was a raised block platform, again with black plates over the top, shielded with a layer of glass. Brent placed the large black container containing Rin's brain onto the raised block platform.

Once the container had been placed, Lore cleared his throat.

'Computer, record neural structures in the processing bay and save the resulting file to transference tube number one for subsequent positronic brain pathway estimation and construction.'

Lore had only seen Dr Maddox use the machine, but he had recorded how to do it as he had watched. He was hopeful it would be enough, in case Brent went mad and blew his brains out. To his relief, the leftmost replicator on the left wall created a force field in front of the entry way. At the same time, a force field surrounded the container on the plate in the middle of the room. Then, the box vanished instantly, sucked up by the replicator system.

Brent walked in front of transference tube one and looked inside. It was empty, but the replicator plates were humming like bees in a hive.

'Computer, access Starfleet database. Construct physical casing with the aesthetic appearance of Rin Xareth of Bajor,' Lore said. 'If you require more information, access video logs from floor twelve of the Soong Institute of Technology on October sixth two years ago and correlate data. Commence transference procedure for the post-mortem brain.'

A small screen, previously camouflaged by the black marble walls above the transference tube, blinked with a red-font estimated time to completion message:

TRANSFERENCE ETC: 2 hours, 24 minutes.

The timer started to tick down. Between the replicator plates at the end of the tube were the beginning construction of the soles of feet. The transference tube would begin by creating the circuits for the peripheral body and nervous system while it estimated the most optimal circuits for the positronic brain based on Rin's neural pathways. By the time the replicator plates had constructed the outer casing, the positronic brain could be created.

Brent said nothing, he simply watched the procedure.

They were going to be there for awhile.

Lore turned and walked down the hall. He decided to reacquaint himself with the lab, considering he couldn't escape. The transference labs were highly secure rooms. Not only did the doors require special access codes and fingerprints to open, but the corridors and doors themselves were sealed with several layers of teleportation-dampeners, sub-space field inhibitors, and physical force fields.

He wouldn't be able to get out without the phaser to blast their way back through the front door, and he doubted Brent would give it to him willingly. Lore bet Brent thought he would bust out and tell Dr Maddox what was happening.

_Well, he's not entirely incorrect._

Lore opened the door to the post-mortem storage area. He stepped inside, his boots echoing throughout the room.

The truth of the matter was that the transference laboratory doubled as a morgue. Not only were there brains in there, but also whole bodies being preserved until their time of use or later research. Providing a physical blue-print of a person's body to the transference tubes could later give the most accurate aesthetic representation of the person in android form, but it was not required. Photographs or video might be appropriate was if one didn't want to pay the additional fees associated with creating a more accurate body, or if the body had been irretrievable.

The aisles looked like extremely large black filing cabinets, except each of the "cabinets" were storage containers. They towered up twenty meters and there were approximately fifty rows about one hundred meters long. It was a large storage bay. The thickness of the row depended on whether the storage containers held brains or bodies, but it alternated by row.

As Lore walked down the rows, he felt a rushing sound in his ears. It was a psychosomatic response to anxiety. He was ignoring the brain storage containers, but focusing on the bodies. He couldn't help but remember the dream he had, where Data had become a human. If a body had been constructed of a youthful Dr Soong, would it be in here?

Lore figured he had time so he examined each code of all the containers. Each time he found one with the race-code hmn (human) that was also male (m), he opened it and looked inside. The smell of the ethanol glycerol mixture was harsh on his nostrils, but it was worth it to satisfy his curiosity.

Lore scanned the final row of bodies and felt his anxiety subside. It had taken him an hour to examine all the relevant bodies. There was no human Data, after all.

_I wonder if Dr Maddox still has that administration room…_

Feeling in slightly better spirits he walked down the final aisle and turned to his right where several columns of black containers had been removed. There were automatic doors, the first in the entire complex, but to Lore's surprise it needed a code to open. It hadn't previously been that way.

'Lore-two-gamma-thirty-seven,' Lore said, raising an eyebrow at the door.

It didn't move. Mildly annoyed, Lore accessed his memory banks for Dr Maddox's code. But that must have changed because it didn't work either - not even when he emulated the man's voice.

Suddenly frustrated and determined to get inside - if only to prove he could do it - he produced all potential combinations of Lore and Maddox security codes at triple speed. After forty minutes, he found one that opened the door.

'Maddox-three-ten-omega-five.'

The door opened, and Lore stepped inside. For the most part it was as it had been before: a small cramped room with nothing but a desk, console, and an impressionist painting of neural microglia on the wall. But there was something else. A large object against the far wall. It was a black container.

A black container consistent with the body-sized containers in the storage bay.

_Oh no… _

Lore was pretty sure he knew what was going to be in the box. What else could it be? Clearly, Dr Maddox had gone out of his way to keep this a secret, and that meant it was something important.

_Data?_

Suddenly, Lore was not sure if he wanted to open it. He felt like he was standing before Pandora's box. The question that now came to his mind was _should_ he open it? And it was a question he had never considered before. The last few days had been difficult, sure, and he had gradually come to realize that if he wanted to regain Data's respect, he ought to act in a way that demonstrated that respect.

Would he be betraying Data's trust if he opened the container? Had he betrayed Dr Maddox's for breaking into the room? But surely Dr Maddox knew that Lore could have cracked the code. Data should have known he'd be able to crack the code as well. Was it his fault their security measures had been less than optimal?

What if it wasn't Data's body, but somebody else's? Would he feel guilty then?

_Maybe you should have thought about those things before breaking in, you idiot. _

Despite those questions, he knew the container would nag at him if he didn't figure out what was in it. Curiosity was an innocent thing - it wasn't like he was jeopardising anybody by taking a peek.

He kneeled in front of the black container, the rushing sound in his ears getting louder.

Hands shaking, he pressed a few buttons on either side of the length of the container and dug his nails under the top. He slid the lid backwards and peered inside. As he peered at the thing inside, his insides curled. The smell that reached his nostrils made his eyes water.

Lore shut the container lid as quickly as he had opened it, immediately feeling sick. He leaned back against the nearest wall, clutching his head. The world was spinning.

It was Data's body all right… Data's _human_ body.

But there was something wrong with it.

Patches of the human's pale flesh had been bright pink from muscle fibres and organs peeking through, blood vessels and veins making a crude spider web over the top of it.

Even the human's face - half its head was missing as if it had been cut out - carved out like a Halloween pumpkin. For what was there, there were white-yellow lumps of fat attached to portions of the visible muscle of the face, like those in the cheek. Neural fibres and flaking meninges stuck out the right side of the missing skull in an uneven pattern. The brown hairs on its head had grown unevenly. Its only visible eye was half open. It was bloodshot and had an unnatural yellow hue to the sclera that made it look infected. The iris was blue, but even the iris was incomplete – one half of the pigment was the same sickly yellow colour as the iris. The body's lips were a faint pink, slightly open, and small bubbles had emanated from the lips as Lore had disturbed the container.

The skin had not yet formed over large patches of the human's body– at places like the temples, the neck, and large patches of the chest, arms and legs. The patches were so large and regularly shaped that it made the body appear like it had some kind of auto-immune skin condition. Tiny nano-fibres could be seen stuck all over the incomplete portions of the human body. There were so many of them that it made the incomplete portions of flesh appear to be covered in a translucent mossy film, except the film was moving. The film was alive.

And the body most certainly wasn't lying in preservation fluid, but something else entirely. Lore broke down the chemical components that reached his olfactory senses, identifying it as a mixture of amino acids, sugars, and other organic molecules.

That was it. The body was growing, still. Or maybe recovering from some unexpected illness, Lore couldn't decide which. Were the fibres helping the body, or destroying it?

Lore liked to think it was _helping_ the body, but he didn't know how. That half the human's head had simply been sheared away disturbed him since the rest of the creature's body were relatively intact. It was as if the body had been damaged somehow and was being preserved.

Lore closed his eyes tight, trying to rid his mind of the repulsive vision, but he couldn't stop thinking about it. Was this really going to be Data's body, or was it a failed science experiment? The sides of his mouth turned southwards in revulsion.

_I have never seen something so ugly._

The body looked and smelled disgusting.


	25. Hallucination

When Admiral Riker beamed down to Dr Maddox's laboratory, he was surprised to see only two Soong androids in the vicinity. Dr Maddox was speaking with them.

Had the others returned to quarters? Where was Lore?

Dr Maddox turned and approached the Admiral, the two long-haired Soong androids close at his heels like baby ducklings.

'Admiral, we have a problem,' Dr Maddox said.

'What problem?' the Admiral asked, he glanced around. 'Where are the others?'

'That is the problem. Lieutenant Commander Brent and Lore are currently inside transference laboratory fifteen, and Brent has disabled the lock to the outside. It would take three hours to retrieve them forcibly given the design of the corridors prevents them from being beamed out. But by then, it will be too late.'

'Too late for what? What does Brent want with Lore?' Admiral Riker demanded. His features conveyed an expression of bewilderment. 'Why do they need to be in there?'

Dr Maddox sighed. 'It is complicated. Brent wants to revive a deceased Bajoran woman with the transference procedure. I denied his request so he took Lore hostage in order to do it.'

Admiral Riker blinked several times, absorbing the information.

_So they're stuck. Great. _

'The reason I asked is because Captain Worf of the Defiant has found a vessel that likely belongs to the Betazoid that captured Commander Data. Captain Picard wants the Enterprise and the Selene to leave in ten minutes, but he needs the Selene crew. The Selene is also missing a Captain. Captain Picard wants to interview potential applicants.'

A smirk crossed Tsar's face. He stepped forward. 'I volunteer for the Captain position, Admiral.'

'You are currently a formal applicant to the position. I feel to make you Captain would put the other applicants at a disadvantage. It would be inappropriate,' Admiral Riker began. 'What about you, uh, was it Lieutenant Commander Veneer?'

'Correct,' Veneer stated, but his eyes fell to the floor. 'With all due respect, I do not want to be Captain, sir.'

'Well somebody has to be!' Riker said, aggravated. 'Aren't you qualified?'

'I am, sir, but I feel I would be an ineffective Captain.'

'Why's that?'

'To be frank, I find it difficult to be in the presence of Betazoid, sir. I find them distracting.'

What kind of nonsense was this? Admiral Riker ran his hand over his beard, irritably.

'Well, that won't do,' Riker said gruffly. He looked around the room as if double checking no other Soong androids had magically appeared. 'What about Lars? He went to see his wife, didn't he?'

Veneer shuffled on the spot, and exchanged a glance with Tsar.

'Lars is not well, sir. He is experiencing a personal crisis and I believe he is unfit to command.'

'Well, do you think he could work in engineering or operations, at least?'

'I do not know, sir.'

Admiral Riker paced back and forth, shaking his head, frustration building inside of him. None of them could be Captain? Really? None at all? He turned to Veneer and spoke in hushed angry tones, losing his patience completely. 'Are you all a bunch of _incompetents_? Why have you all returned to Omicron Theta only to experience a series of mental breakdowns?'

_Could Lore have had something to do with it?_

'Why has Lore only been giving you shore leave so infrequently?' Riker continued, his voice becoming louder. 'Do you not talk to each other about your problems? Why are you all so damn crazy?'

_It had to be Lore's fault. He was meant to be responsible for the well being of his crew. He was the one who had claimed to Starfleet that androids did not require as many breaks as humans did. That made sense for physical fatigue, but what about mental fatigue? _Riker shook his head, exhaling loudly. _Maybe that was unfair. They certainly hadn't encountered this sort of problem before.  
><em>

Veneer stared up at Riker, a guilty expression on his face. 'I am sorry, sir.'

'It's not your fault,' Riker snapped. He stopped pacing and crossed his arms, scowling, glaring at a wall. 'I don't know whose fault it is.'

'I could be Captain,' Tsar reasserted. 'If there is nobody else available.'

_Give me a break._

Riker glared at Tsar. 'There _is_ somebody else available, Lieutenant Commander Tsar, so I would appreciate it if you could hold your tongue!'

Finally able to have a moment to gather his thoughts, Riker remembered what Captain Picard had said several moments ago.

_I cannot help but wonder if this reflects a more insidious problem, perhaps one that had gone unnoticed. Perhaps androids are less resilient to stress than we had previously thought._

He had thought Captain Picard was just being generous to Lore, but now he was on the surface he was starting to think there may have been some truth to his statement. It wasn't just Lore, but Brent, Veneer, and Lars – they were all acting strangely. Tsar wasn't, but who was to say he wasn't about to snap just like Brent had? Apparently Brent had shot Lore… Nearly killed him. That worried him. Until now, Brent had no previous record of erratic behaviour.

Riker turned to Dr Maddox who looked just as bewildered and frustrated as he did. 'Would you have been able to predict this, Dr Maddox? Is there some sort of vulnerability to mental illness in their neural nets? Has there ever been any cases of mental illness documented among androids?'

'There have been isolated incidents of psychological stress and symptoms resembling mental illness, but nothing to the degree we are currently observing,' Dr Maddox admitted, frowning.

'We should talk to Counselor Troi about this, see what she thinks about it. At the very least, maybe she can talk to Lieutenant Commander Lars and see if he is capable of working,' Riker said, feeling like he was regaining some semblance of calm now that they were developing a plan. But even with some members of the crew already present, there were still several positions missing. First Officer and Captain, they may need an extra hand at the helm or engineering, too.

Perhaps he could convince Picard to send a few people over. Commander Shelby would be pleased at any rate. It was looking like she was going to be the Captain after all.

He pointed at Veneer and Tsar and jerked his finger towards the ceiling. 'When you beam up to the Enterprise, tell Captain Picard Admiral Riker asks him to send remote commands to the Selene to set up life support on the bridge. I am going to contact Lars and get him evaluated by Counselor Troi.' He ran a hand over his beard. 'Brent and Lore will _unfortunately_ not be able to come. If Lore finds he still wants to come when he gets out of that damn laboratory then he'll have to make the trip in his own time. But I doubt he'll get very far in a shuttle ship.'

Admiral Riker pressed his communication badge on his chest to contact the Enterprise.

'Admiral Riker speaking. Requesting you beam up the two androids Tsar and Veneer as soon as possible for interview. They will forward my instructions to the Captain.'

Once Admiral Riker had confirmed the two androids had been successfully removed from the building, he approached a nearby console on the wall. Dr Maddox approached Admiral Riker.

'I apologize for the inconvenience on behalf of Brent and the others. I was not aware they were experiencing so many difficulties,' Dr Maddox said. 'It is not something that has been documented on this scale before. When they return from their mission and if they're willing I could examine their neural nets for evidence of psychological disturbance. If I can localize it to a certain region of their positronic brains, I may be able to identify the cause.'

'That sounds like a good idea,' Admiral Riker said, pressing a few buttons on the console pad. He glanced at Dr Maddox and raised his eyebrows. 'Might be a bit more interesting than finding new and exciting ways to make them go faster, don't you think?'

Dr Maddox's eyes were cold. 'Perhaps.'

* * *

><p>Counselor Troi sat in her counselling chair, a cup of hot chocolate in hand. She sipped at the beverage, and glanced at the Soong android sitting opposite her. The android had gold skin, gold eyes, and short dark brown hair slicked back against his head. The android had dark circles under his eyes. His expression was blank, but Troi could sense waves of sorrow and emptiness emanating from him like waves in the ocean breaking upon the shore.<p>

Troi glanced at her console screen, examining the record the Computer had conjured up.

**PATIENT RECORD | USS ENTERPRISE**

**ACTING COUNSELOR:** _Deanna Troi._

**Patient Name:** _Lars Soong._ **Sex:** _Male._ **Age:** _15._

**Legal Guardian:** _Lore Soong._ **Other Guardian:** _Data Soong._

**Employment history:** _Cybernetics research assistant under Dr Maddox, at the Soong Institute of Cybernetics. Two years duration._

_Engineer and Lieutenant Commander on board the USS Selene. Ten years duration as of current stardate._

**Reason for Seeking Counselling:** _Formal evaluation as requested by Admiral Riker. Nature of evaluation is to determine if Lars Soong is fit to work on board the Selene._

**Notes:** _Lars has a history of antagonistic behaviour including violent and erratic outbursts on board the Enterprise. This arose several week after his activation, usually when he felt he was patronised or threatened. There have been no subsequent reports of erratic behaviour, supporting the hypothesis that this was an adjustment period._

_Before Lore was deactivated by Data years prior, he had written a program to the emotion chip Data had later acquired. The program contained a storage bank of Lore's memories, originally devised so Lore could recreate himself in another android if he were deactivated, provided the personality in the android was able to be influenced. Since Data created Lars based on his neural network, Lore's program was unknowingly transferred to his positronic brain. Lars thus acquired some of Lore's behavioural attributes. _

Counselor Troi placed her mug of hot chocolate on the desk before her and smiled warmly at Lars.

'How are you feeling today, Lars?' Counselor Troi asked. When she received silence, she continued. 'I can't help but notice you have under-eye circles. I would like to hear more about them.'

Lars Soong spoke with a bitterness reminiscent of Lore. 'A few days ago the Selene had captured some Betazoid from the resistance. I was just trying to lower their guard – it's not important.'

Despite the anger, Troi could still feel sadness underneath, like the irritability was only a barrier.

'So the under-eye circles are cosmetic?'

'That's right,' Lars said.

The Counselor shuffled forward on her chair. She held her hands together and looked at Lars, very seriously. 'Do you know why Admiral Riker asked you to see me?'

'The Selene is meant to be leaving with the Enterprise in five minutes,' Lars said. He suddenly let out a derisive laugh. 'As if we'll have time to address anything in five minutes!'

'I wouldn't be so sure,' the Counselor said. 'Do you feel like there is a lot to talk about?'

Lars's golden eyes flitted to the ceiling and then to the Counselor. 'Yes.'

'Why don't you tell me a little about what is bothering you?'

'My wife, Androma, and I are going to get divorced,' Lars said stiffly. 'We have been married for ten years, but I didn't see her often – the Selene is away for long periods. We studied cybernetics together at the Academy before that.' Lars's cheek twitched into a half-smile. His voice suddenly sounded hollow. 'She thought it was fascinating being in a relationship with an android. She's Vulcan, you know. But she changed. She was cheating on me with Romulan scum! I deserve better than that. I hope has a slow and painful death.'

'Divorce can be a difficult process, even more so when there is a betrayal in the relationship. The end of a ten year marriage is often filled with uncertainty, anger, and great sadness.'

'It's my fault. I should have known she was cheating on me, everyone told me she was – I was just too weak to realize it.'

Troi suddenly got the feeling that Lars was hiding something. Like all the talk about his wife was to distract her from something else.

'Is there something else bothering you?'

She reached silence. Lars slowly turned his eyes to look into Troi's and his eyes suddenly appeared distant.

'I have been hallucinating, Counselor,' Lars began. Then, he started to laugh. 'I thought they would stop when I spoke to Androma, when I told her that she was a bitch – a filthy slut – a good for nothing piece of human meat - that it was over! But I was wrong,' Lars's voice caught in his throat. His cheek twitched. 'But they are still there.' His hands were shaking. He gripped his knees and squeezed tightly. His eyes were wide at he stared at Counselor Troi. 'I ran a self diagnostic but there is nothing apparently wrong with me – it makes no sense!'

'What form do the hallucinations take?' Counselor Troi asked. 'If this is psychological in origin their content might give you an idea as to the cause.'

'Before I spoke to Androma it started as repetitive noises, but then I heard her saying things to me, taunting me, threatening me...,' Lars muttered. 'But now… I hear… Commander Data. And I _see_ him!'

'Commander Data?' Counselor Troi rose an eyebrow, surprised. 'Do you miss him?'

'I never talked to him much, even on the Selene,' Lars said quickly. 'I spent a lot of time by myself. Talking to them – the crew – was difficult for me at times. Having my mind open to their thoughts, their feelings, listening to commands through my _head_! I hated it. I wanted to be alone. The communication chip was a constant source of disruption for me.'

'Do you think this desire to be alone – of dreading hearing their voices - might have had something to do with the hallucinations?' Troi asked. 'You know, in the twenty first century there was a disorder called schizoid personality disorder. It described a particular type of behaviour pattern over the course of a person's life which could cause distress to the person in question or others. It is mainly characterized by extreme introversion, obsession with fantasy, and a lack of interest in pursuing social relationships. However, under times of stress some people with schizoid personality are more likely to experience hallucinations – a temporary type of psychosis, though unlike actual psychosis the sufferer is usually aware that the experience isn't real and is not delusional. They hypothesised the introversion and the obsession with fantasy made the person lose touch with reality, making hallucinations more likely. Nowadays people recognize that what was schizoid personality disorder is just an extreme end of the possible normal variation in a person's personality - extreme introversion is not a bad thing. But if the stress is interfering with your life then it becomes a problem.'

Lars shook his head angrily. 'No. No, no. There is something else happening here. If it was stress they would have stopped by now! My hallucinations didn't start until Commander Data was kidnapped. I don't know why or how but that triggered something in my neural net. That's why I heard my bitch wife, and might be why I'm seeing _him_ now!'

_If it is related to Data's disappearance then the others might be having hallucinations as well. I cannot discount that possibility yet. Unless I can talk with them there's no way of knowing if it is true or if it is caused by something else. But you were the one Will was most concerned about._

Counselor Troi listened patiently as Lars continued, but she was also aware that their time together was running out.

'And I _don't_ miss Data! His absence means little to me!'

_Somehow I find that hard to believe._

Troi decided this was a good place to interject. 'What was Commander Data doing when he was in your hallucinations?'

'Nothing especially important,' Lars grumbled. 'He just talks to me about the mission, about my wife, trying to offer advice. You know, the sorts of things he might do if he were here, if he could talk to me.'

Lars's eyes suddenly darted to Counselor Troi's window. He focused there for several moments.

Troi glanced to look at her window, but saw nothing outside except space. She turned back to Lars. Was he looking at Commander Data?

Suddenly, his head jerked, and his eyes came back into focus.

At that same moment, Counselor Troi's door chimed.

'Come in,' she called, taking the opportunity to take a sip of hot chocolate.

It was Admiral Riker. He poked his head in the door. 'Counselor, the Selene needs a Lieutenant Commander. Do you think he can do his job?'

'I wouldn't recommend it unless I could be sure Lars will be able to manage the stress,' Counselor Troi said. She couldn't possibly recommend Lars if he was being distracted by hallucinations, but if they were caused by stress it might be possible that deactivating his emotion chip might help. She couldn't be sure the hallucinations would stop, but it might help. She turned to Lars. 'Do you think you might be able to function better if your emotion chip was deactivated?'

'That depends on what's causing this, doesn't it?!' Lars snapped. 'I may be an engineer, I may have a degree in cybernetics, but nothing has prepared me for this!'

'I would like you to deactivate your emotion chip,' Counselor Troi asserted. 'But if you feel unable to do your duty without it I want you to come see me immediately.'

That Lars was worse off than the other crew members suggested to her that stress was involved to some extent. But if there was something else happening, then it was possible that the other members of the Selene crew were at risk as well. After all, according to Riker Brent had run amuck on the surface. And was Lore's violent behaviour related? There were too many uncertainties in the equation, but even she knew the impact of stress on mental functioning. It couldn't be too different for androids.

Troi glanced at Admiral Riker. 'To be safe, I think _all_ of the Selene crew should deactivate their emotion chips. In addition, I do not think it would be wise to give either of them control of the Selene, in case something hapens.'

Commander Riker nodded. He probably suspected as much. He turned to Lars. 'Then deactivate your emotion chip and come to the bridge, Lieutenant Commander. You are needed on the Selene. I also want you to meet your new, albeit temporary, Captain.'

Lars stood and closed his eyes for a moment. In an instant, it was if a light had been turned off in the room. The anger, sorrow, frustration that had been coming from Lars ceased immediately and Troi could feel nothing. As his emotion chip was deactivated, Troi realized just how strong the android's emotions had been, as if they had been amplified beyond normal.

* * *

><p>The Enterprise and Selene were ready to depart to the outskirts of the Neutral Zone in the allocated time. The Selene bridge had been oxygenated and sealed from the rest of the ship. The carpet on the floor was damp from all the ice that had melted, and water had to be removed from the view screen. Other than that there had been no major difficulties in setting up the bridge for human habitation.<p>

Lieutenant Commander Lars and Veneer were sitting at the helm and operations respectively, Tsar at tactical, and Geordi LaForge was at the back of the bridge at engineering. Admiral Riker had taken position as First Officer letting Commander Shelby be Captain. Captain Picard was on view screen. He smiled at Riker.

'I have faith that Commander Shelby will make a fine Captain, but it is good that you were willing to stay on board the Selene, Number One,' Picard said, obviously pleased that he was able to call Riker his "Number One" again.

'I have no doubts in Commander Shelby's abilities,' Riker said, his eyes suddenly boring holes into the back of Veneer and Lars's heads. 'It's the Soong androids I want to keep an eye on.'

'Captain Shelby, we have confirmed our destination coordinates with the Enterprise,' Lars reported.

_We're coming for you, Data. _Riker thought, gripping the armrest of his chair._ We're going to save you._

'Recommend we proceed at warp nine point seven,' Veneer suggested. 'Estimated time of arrival is one hour, thirty four minutes, and twenty six seconds.'

Captain Shelby stood from her chair and nodded at Captain Picard. 'See you soon, Captain.' The viewscreen returned to the void of space, Omicron Theta far below. 'Lieutenant Commander Lars, break the Selene from orbit around Omicron Theta and align to those coordinates. Once we are aligned, commence warp drive.'

* * *

><p><em>AN: This was a hard chapter to write... I'm not entirely sure why. I guess the tough thing is trying to raise the possibility of mental illness in androids without it being contrived. Hopefully it didn't seem entirely out of nowhere. I also found it hard to write the characters in this chapter. Not Counselor Troi or Lars so much, but more Riker and Dr Maddox. How would they go about addressing this possibility? Hopefully I conveyed it plausibly._

_**Side note: hallucinations in schizoid personality disorder vs schizophrenia**_

_A random note, if people were curious - the proneness to hallucinations for some people with schizoid personality disorder is an actual thing. I have had some experience with it, actually. I have never been diagnosed (I don't have any issues functioning) but I am very introverted and am prone to experiencing auditory hallucinations under extreme stress - the only circumstance I've read about it occuring in that way is in schizoid personality disorder once you rule out a psychotic break (which is different). Being curious about it, I found myself doing some research on the topic. Naturally I would want to try convey some of the experience into a story, partially because I can by drawing on my personal experience, and partially for the sake of making an interesting story. I have experienced visual hallucinations during extreme sleep deprivation, but that's more common. I've never experienced a hallucination where visual and auditory (and other) senses combined except during sleep paralysis (which I have experienced on several occasions).  
><em>

_The auditory hallucinations for me were usually repetitive sounds, like an alarm clock going off or a small snippet of music (which happened last year... it wouldn't stop for ten minutes, was really annoying!), and this year I even experienced hearing my housemates whispering and screaming at some point (overall, kind of weird and distracting). The hallucinations in schizoid personality disorder are different to those in schizophrenia, which is the disorder people usually think of when someone mentions hallucinations. I can usually tell if I'm hallucinating because the experiences are unexpected and strange, and there is also a weird etheric quality to them that is hard to describe. But the awareness is important, because whether somebody is aware they are hallucinating or not is used in differential diagnosis. Usually I have a suspicion it's happening and then do 'reality checks' to see if they are real or not (e.g. check my alarm or music player isn't on, take a short walk around my sharehouse to hear what my housemates are actually up to, etc)._

_Just thought it might be interesting to people, as a side note._


	26. The Deceased

Lore was present when the transference procedure completed. He watched Brent's back from several meters away, not daring to disturb him.

When the transference procedure finished, Rin's body was beamed out of the tube with a local transport system. She reappeared standing upright in front of the tube facing Brent Soong who hadn't budged since the procedure began.

Her eyes were closed. Her lithe body was draped in a grey jumpsuit, the default option when no clothing was specified. To the naïve she appeared a Bajoran, her pointed face and horizontal nose-ridges a convincing match. However, she had no life signs. She was made of metal and circuits. Her consciousness was encased within a new shell.

Brent circled the android and grasped her wrists, tugging them and rotating them in his fingers. They were devoid of scars – what would have been physical reminders of self-inflicted wounds. It was as if she had never killed herself two years ago.

Brent stood before her, his eyelids heavy over his golden eyes. Without saying anything, Brent reached his hand behind the android's back, searching for a reset button. His fingers finding the correct location, he pressed downwards.

Rin's eyes opened. They were a bright blue. At the sight of Brent, her eyes widened. Her pupils darted around the room. 'Where am I? This isn't a hospital.'

Lore turned away, unable to watch the scene. What was Brent going to say to her? He knew the resulting interaction wasn't going to be pretty.

'You are in a transference laboratory,' Brent explained, taking a deep breath and sighing. 'I have brought you back to life as an android, an artificial lifeform. You now have a positronic brain, just like me. How do you feel?'

Suddenly, Lore heard a struggle behind him. There was the clang of metal against metal, and Lore knew Rin must have made a swipe at Brent.

'Calm down,' Brent muttered.

Lore's curiosity got the better of him. The black marble walls and empty transference tubes were boring to look at, anyway. He turned to watch the two androids interact.

Brent was holding Rin's wrists in his hands against his chest, his face devoid of emotion. Rin struggled to pull away from Brent. Micro-tears appeared in her wrists where she was trying to pull away, but she was losing the battle. Brent's arms were steady, and he made no indication of being about to give in.

Rin's body was too new, she was not familiar enough with her circuits to exert sufficient control over them. Motor control would take awhile to learn. Until then, she was at Brent's mercy.

Her face was contorted in anger, in despair.

'How dare you,' she hissed, through grit teeth. Her voice was cracking, reaching a scream. 'How dare you! How dare you!'

Her torso twisted in an attempt to rip free, but Brent wouldn't let go.

'What are you going to do?' Brent asked, his voice empty. 'Are you going to end your life again?'

The Bajoran avoided Brent's gaze. She shrieked. 'Let me go! You can't keep me here!'

Suddenly, Rin's eyes focused on Brent's face with newfound determination. She strained her neck forward and bared her teeth. With the screech of metal being deformed, her mouth closed around Brent's lower jawline. Her teeth dug into the bioplast sheeting. She tugged. A chunk of metal was torn from Brent's face. Sparks emanated from his face, crackling in protest. The Borg nano-drones wriggled as Rin spat the metal shards out of her mouth.

Brent paid no mind to her behaviour.

'Do you feel different? What does it feel like to be an android compared with being Bajoran?' Brent asked, his voice steady. 'Are we really so different from one another? Tell me, Rin, and I'll let you go. You can do whatever you like. You can kill yourself, or you can try to live your life anew. All I wanted was to give you the opportunity to try again. I wanted to give you another chance.'

Lore thought Rin might try to take another bite out of Brent's face, but instead, biofluids leaked from her eyes. Tears slid down her cheeks and flitted to the floor. Her voice shook, her eyes focused on something far away – perhaps a memory.

'I don't know!' she gasped. Her voice turned into a croak. 'I don't remember how it feels to be Bajoran!'

Lore stared at the floor, suddenly feeling sorry for the android.

Of course she couldn't remember. The structures of humanoid and positronic brains were not compatible. Human memories and sensations were transformed in the process. One could not access the consciousness they had experienced before due to that incompatibility. In other words, it would be impossible for Rin to make a judgement about the similarity or the dissimilarity of being Bajoran versus being android. Brent's question had been unfair, and perhaps intentionally so. Lore imagined the case would be similar in the reverse.

_If Data became human, would we be able to relate to one another?_

Lore watched, a feeling of pity rising within him as Rin struggled in Brent's grasp, tears pouring down her face. Her shoulders jerked as she tried to break free, her arms creaking with the physical stress of a possible breakage.

_Deep down she knows something is different, but she can't say what. The uncertainty and confusion must be overwhelming for her. _

'What are you going to do about it?' Brent queried, his voice low. He released his grasp on the android. 'What are you going to do about that kind of uncertainty?'

Rin's gaze dropped to Brent's belt where the phaser was located. She reached towards the phaser and pulled it out of his belt. Lore watched in amazement as Brent did nothing. Nothing!

Rin's hands shook as she pointed the phaser at Brent's forehead, in between his eyes.

'Brent!' Lore began. What the hell was he doing? 'Brent, you idiot! She'll shoot!'

'I know,' Brent muttered. He glanced towards Lore, the phaser moving towards his temple. 'And I deserve to suffer the consequences.' His eyes were glazed. His mouth twitched into a mournful, lob-sided smile. 'I just wanted to know if there was a chance that someone could change their mind once they had been transformed into something else. I just wanted to know if there was hope for me… Hope for us.'

'You're not going to become a martyr, Brent,' Lore warned, his voice dropping to a dangerous growl. How could he convince the android that what he was doing was a terrible mistake? 'So stop trying to be one. This means nothing in the grand scheme of things. Changes in a race can take decades, even hundreds or thousands of years!'

'But what about in people?' Brent demanded. 'What about change in the people you care about?!'

Lore didn't answer. What could he possibly say? Why was this woman so important to him that he was willing to put himself in danger to test a hypothesis?

_He loves her…_ Lore thought, with a pang of realization. _He's so enfatuated with her that he's willing to put his life on the line even if there's a small possibility that she could live again, that she could accept him. The lonely fool never met anybody else. His quest was doomed to begin with._

'You always talked too much, robot,' Rin said slowly, addressing Brent Soong.

Her tears had stopped flowing down her face. Her eyes were narrowed with bold resolve. She pulled the trigger.

Lore ducked.

She fired, and did not take her finger off the trigger. A purple beam burned through Brent's head, and narrowly avoided Lore's. Lore watched the black nano-drones squirm to life in Brent's neural net over the slicked brown hair and attempt to reconstruct the wound, desperately trying to fill the hole, but the beam never ceased. It never gave them the chance to recover the neural network. The beam moved in a circle, gradually eroding more and more of the positronic brain. The skull collapsed on top of itself. The smell of burning hair and bioplast reached Lore's nostrils, the sound of crackling and sizzling circuits echoing in the room, small explosions emanating from the artificial neural network. The longer the beam was active, the slower the drones were moving. After ten seconds of being in constant contact with the beam, Brent's face had been split in two and folded over his upright neck like limp crepe paper. The integrity of the postronic brain was gone, damaged beyond repair.

The drones stopped reconstructing his head. Brent's face was unrecognisable, his head a melted lump of metal. It was a disturbing sight.

_You killed him._

The purple beam stopped.

_ No, Brent let you kill him._

Lore got to his feet steadily, taking a few steps backward. Just how likely was it that Rin would fire on him?

As if she had read his mind, Rin aimed the phaser at Lore's head over Brent's melted one.

Before Lore could react, Rin lowered it again. Her lower lip was twitching.

She put the barrel of the phaser in her mouth, her finger resting over the trigger again. Tears streamed down her face once again, her eyes rolling back, her head straining upwards to look at the ceiling. It was as if she were praying to a god - to her Bajoran prophets, begging for mercy and forgiveness. Lore stared at her, feeling helpless to do anything. Everybody had suspected history might repeat itself, and here was the proof. Who was he to be surprised? Who was he to stop her? It was her choice. If he stopped her, she would just find another way to do it later.

_So this is your decision._

She fired, burning a hole through the roof of her mouth to the top of her skull. Her positronic brain melted, and the black hair on the top of her head caught alight before sizzling to ash. Bioplast dripped out of her mouth over the barrel of the phaser before her grasp became limp on the weapon. The positronic network was not about to repair itself. There were no drones in her positronic network. The phaser clattered to the floor, melted bioplast skin smearing the ground like paint. Rin's body was still, standing motionless and upright like Brent's, her hands limp by her side, her eyes staring at nothing. Their souls were gone. They were dead.

Lore stared at the androids before him. Brent's head was mangled beyond recognition, and Rin had a hole in her brain. Lore took a step backwards.

_So that's it, then._

It was a gruesome sight. Not one he wanted to stare at for longer than necessary.

Lore picked up the phaser. He carefully wiped the melted bioplast off on his pants leg.

He glanced at the side of the weapon, noticing a bright red light glowing without interruption.

_Well, at least there's still a charge on this damn thing. _

Lore put the phaser in his pocket, a dark and empty feeling washing over him. As he turned away from the dead androids, he felt a twang of guilt.

Maybe if Brent had been given the opportunity to meet more people he might not have fallen in love with Rin. Maybe he wouldn't have died.

Lore walked towards the exit of the transference lab, the emptiness of the tragedy fresh in his mind.

Maybe androids were not so different from humans, after all.


	27. Humanity

When Lore exited transference lab fifteen by forcing the door open from the other side with the phaser, he found the foyer empty, save for a new pair of security ensigns by the doors to the main corridor. Their eyes widened at the sight of him, then their eyes focused on the door behind him expectantly. Lore's heart sank at the sight of them. They were looking for Brent.

The ensigns spoke into a console screen plastered to the wall. Lore could hear them from his current location.

'Dr Maddox, Lore has returned.'

Dr Maddox must have walked quickly to get there. By the time Lore had reached the Ensigns, Dr Maddox had appeared in the doorway. His features conveyed an expression of concern. Like the Ensigns, his eyes darted towards the door to the transference lab, looking for the other Soong android.

'Where is Brent?'

Lore saw no reason to sugar coat the truth.

'Brent's dead. He let Rin kill him.'

'The Bajoran killed him?' Dr Maddox repeated to himself, alarmed, his eyes moving back and forth in a manner that betrayed his human appearance. He cursed under his breath. 'Goddamn it.'

'Rin killed herself shortly after,' Lore continued. He frowned, their melted heads still fresh in his mind. 'The positronic brains cannot be salvaged – they're a mangled mess.'

Dr Maddox heaved a sigh, his eyes sunken.

Lore's eyes turned to look by the folliage in the centre of the room. Hadn't he struggled with Brent on the ground there several hours ago? It was hard to imagine him not coming back, but he was no human - he knew that death was permanent.

Lore turned towards his makeshift quarters, wanting nothing more than to have some time alone. He couldn't shake the feeling that Brent's death could have been avoided. That it was _his_ fault. He could deal with the guilt if he was given some more time to consider it. Feeling forlorn, Lore made a movement to go to his quarters.

Before he reached the doors, however, Dr Maddox grabbed his arm.

'Lore –'

Lore shook him off and glared at him. He didn't want to talk about Brent, Rin, or even Data's body! Not yet, anyway. He just wanted some solitude. He needed time to think. There was still approximately four hours for all the matter-displacement probes to be constructed anyway. Dr Maddox couldn't possibly need him now. The Enterprise and Selene weren't going anywhere.

'What?' Lore snapped, angrily. 'Go see them if you want to! I'm not seeing that disaster twice! I want to be _alone_!'

'No,' Dr Maddox said quickly. He stared seriously at Lore and gave him a shake to make him keep eye contact, to prevent him from escaping so hastily. 'The Enterprise and Selene left orbit about fifteen minutes after you went inside the transference lab. The Defiant had identified a Betazoid transport ship that had decloaked, possibly the one that kidnapped Commander Data. The Enterprise and Selene arrived at their coordinates near the Neutral Zone approximately one hour ago. Last I heard from them they were about to deposit some matter-displacement probes in the region. We have heard nothing from them since.'

Lore found himself pushing Dr Maddox away from him again, but this time for a different reason: disbelief. In an instant, he forgot all about Brent and Rin's mutilated bodies.

_They left without me? To the Neutral Zone?_

Lore's eyes were wide. He could hardly believe it. How could they had lost contact with the Enterprise, Selene, _and_ Defiant? The ships were sturdy – much more powerful than the Betazoid transport vessels. The only way they could have lost contact was if there had been an ambush or if Romulans were involved.

He had to get there as soon as possible. He had to save Data.

'How can I get there? Is there a ship I can borrow?'

'The Enterprise left behind a shuttle ship for you, the Argo. Its warp drive will get you to the Neutral Zone in seven hours but I would recommend waiting twelve hours for Omicron Theta to get backup from the Federation. They have not yet determined which ships will be sent but they are willing to offer passage for you.'

'I'll take the Argo,' Lore said suddenly, determined. 'I'll survey the area. If it looks dangerous I'll wait in position for the other ships before going in.'

The prospect of surveying the Neutral Zone with a defenceless shuttlecraft was frightening but Lore was willing to deal with the risk. He had to know what was going on. He had to save Data. The burning desire to save his brother contaminated all his thoughts, directed him towards that one goal.

Dr Maddox nodded. Perhaps recognising that Lore wanted to leave as soon as possible, he jerked his head towards the teleport pads along the lateral side of the room.

'The Argo is in shuttle bay five,' Dr Maddox said. 'Good luck.'

Realizing that Dr Maddox was about to leave, the thought of Data's human mutilated body in the transference lab came to Lore's mind immediately. He couldn't leave without asking about it. If he was going to see Data, he wanted to know what the body was - what it meant.

'Before I go,' Lore started, before stopping. His voice was shaking with uncertainty. Lore inwardly laughed at himself – he was more frightened about the meaning of a human body than flying to the Neutral Zone to likely destruction! 'In the storage bay in transference lab fifteen, in the administration office –'

Dr Maddox's eyes widened. Suddenly, he glanced at the Ensigns.

'Leave us for a moment, please.'

Lore felt a desperate satisfaction grow inside him.

_I knew it. You know. Why else would your code be used to lock the door?_

The Ensigns obeyed. The echo of their quick footsteps was matched only by the loud clang of the doors behind them as they moved to the southern corridor.

Dr Maddox raised his eyebrow at Lore, his voice calm. 'What did you see?'

'What do you mean?' Lore demanded, suddenly annoyed. 'You've seen it, haven't you!? You know perfectly well what's in there, I had to use your code to open the door! I saw a body – an incomplete construction of a youthful Dr Soong!'

Dr Maddox turned his head. 'I never thought you would go in that room again.'

'I got bored,' Lore snapped. He narrowed his eyes at Dr Maddox. He must have realized what Lore wanted to know - so how much longer was he going to avoid giving the answer? 'Tell me what it's for! Did Data ask you to make it?!'

Dr Maddox's lips became a thin line. He nodded at Lore. 'Yes. Commander Data has been funding research efforts toward producing a reverse-transference procedure for the past ten years. I believe he did it after his friend Geordi LaForge became an android. It was a promise to him, to give him the option of changing back to a human if he wanted to – and also for himself… I'm sure I don't need to explain to you why.'

_LaForge!? Does LaForge know? If so, why would he know about this but not me? Even when Data and I were in a relationship, he never told me about this! He never warned me!_

No, he was getting distracted.

_Forget about LaForge, ask about the body._

'Why is it incomplete? Is there something wrong with it?' Lore urged.

Dr Maddox suddenly looked uncomfortable. 'Lore, you know there are risks with every procedure, even transference. It's no different for the reverse operation.' He looked at Lore's determined expression, frowning. 'Data gave me permission to use a template of his neural net, the one stored in the databanks of Omicron Theta to try transfer the positronic matrix to the human neural tissue as a base. It had to be carefully grown in order to approximate the circuits in the positronic brain.'

Lore's eyes were wild and attentive as he stared at Dr Maddox.

_So the body was being grown, not degenerated!_

Dr Maddox continued. 'Transferring the positronic matrix involves stimulating parts of the brain to force synapses to link together. This process is more involved than replicating a positronic brain from organic tissue because neural circuits are more easily recorded and reconstructed in metal than they are grown organically.' Dr Maddox did not need to take a breath to continue. 'The methodological process of replicating the structures of the positronic brain by linking synapses in the human brain introduces a degree of chaos in the neural tissues. It interferes with the hypothalamic-pituitary axis – the neural structures that interact with the body's endocrine system. This alters the regulation of the body's systems. It causes unpredictable results. Sometimes the immune system reacts and causes systematic damage to the tissue, not necessarily isolated to the brain. Other times, whole brain regions degenerate or produce pathways they were never meant to appear. In those cases, surgical techniques have to be applied to remove the tissue, and then the brain needs to be regrown.'

Understanding started to settle in Lore's positronic brain as he absorbed the details of the procedure Dr Maddox was describing. It explained the auto-immune like tissue inflammation and deterioration he had seen as large patches on the body, why half of the body's brain had been missing, and why parts of the body's eye had looked infected.

The question was... if it had been a ten year project, just how close was it to completion?

'Have you made any progress?' Lore asked. He had to know, even if he didn't like the answer.

'Yes, we have,' Dr Maddox said. 'After ten years, we have made some progress. Now I must ask you something before I continue, if you do not mind,' He paused. 'Lore, did you ever get the impression that Data's loyalties to the Selene were fading?'

Lore gulped. _Yes._

He remembered having an argument with Data in his quarters about that very subject several days ago. Data had been ambiguous with his responses about whether he was going to transfer to the Enterprise or not - about whether he believed in the Selene's mission and goals.

Maybe Data's ambiguity hadn't been because he was about to transfer to the Enterprise necessarily. Maybe it was because he was about to leave the Selene, and not because he wanted to leave, but because he couldn't possibly survive on the ship if the reverse-transference procedure was a success. Is that what was going to happen? Lore had to be sure.

'Yes,' Lore breathed. 'Yes. Was there something significant about this particular visit to Omicron Theta?'

Dr Maddox nodded sternly. 'I paused the body's regenerative processes since he was kidnapped. That is why it looked incomplete to you. The timing of the neural growth is crucial, you see,' Dr Maddox put a hand on Lore's shoulder- it was then Lore realized that his shoulders were shaking. 'Lore, Data was going to offer his positronic brain to me to replicate into the body's neural circuits when he got shore leave. It would have built upon the blueprint I have already designed and bring the project to a completion. Lore, Data would have become a human being.'

Lore's entire body was shaking now. Data was going to become human. He had organized the operation with Dr Maddox in secret. He had kept the truth from him. But why? Suddenly, Lore remembered the dream he had about human-Data and the tormented feeling he had felt in response to it. He remembered the battle of the two opposing sides of himself: his desire to keep Data close to him versus keeping humans at a distance. Suddenly, the question of why had a possible answer.

_Because it would hurt me?_

It was real. It wasn't just a dream. It was really going to happen. Data was going to do it.

Lore's chest ached and his throat felt strained with the effort of holding the pain inside, the pain that threatened to puncture his chest.

If Data went through with the operation, Lore would never see him on the Selene again. Forget that he wasn't Captain anymore, he couldn't even see him as a passenger! As degrading a prospect, he would have put up with being a passenger if it meant he could see Data.

Lore crossed his arms across his chest, clenching the hem of his black turtleneck shirt in an effort to wrangle his emotions into submission.

What was he doing? Losing control of himself?

He twisted the fabric in his fists, clamping his jaw shut before he betrayed too much of himself.

_Don't leave me, Data._

But desperate thoughts filled his mind. He couldn't stop them.

What if the operation failed? What if Data died?

_I couldn't bear it._

A mixture of a sob and a desparate laugh escaped Lore's throat.

'What is the failure rate?'

'There is a fourty percent chance that his neural circuits won't be accurately transfered,' Dr Maddox said. Dr Maddox's forehead creased with concern at the sight of Lore. He proceeded slowly, recognising that Lore might act rashly if he provided too much information too quickly. 'If my studies of growth in the hippocampus are correct, the worst case scenario is that he'll suffer debilitating memory loss that might dramatically alter his personality and ability to recognize others. But if he is lucky, only weak memories will be forgotten – those which hold little meaning for him. There is no telling if the memories he'd lose would ever be restored. Unfortunately there is no way of knowing just what the end result will look like without reviving the body... Data has told me that he is willing to deal with the risk.'

_Fourty percent!?_

Data was willing to risk throwing his memories away for _those_ odds? He was willing to risk throwing away his identity for that? And possibly his memories of Lore, too?

_Don't you care if you forget about me!?_

Lore's jaw was slack, his eyes suddenly staring into a dream that he thought had long passed. Maybe he would be staring into those blue eyes in the future, of the pale fleshy human thing that was meant to be Data. And would it be Data? Would he still have his memories, his identity, at the end of it?

Dr Maddox gave Lore's arm a squeeze, but it only made the android jump in alarm. Why was Dr Maddox trying to comfort him? He was beyond being comforted! Fpr the last ten years he had put all his efforts into producing a world for androids by being Captain of the Selene and Lore suddenly felt like it was all for nothing. It surprised him just how strong the feeling was. Maybe his dream of an android future hadn't just been about him - it had been about _them_, he and Data. He hadn't realized just how much, though.

Maybe that's why Data's ambiguity about leaving the Selene had hurt him so much.

_I hadn't just been doing it for me. I was doing it for you, Data!_ Lore thought. _I had been doing it for us! The Selene needed a Captain who believed in what the Selene could do for the Federation, for androids... for the two of us. The Selene needed a Captain who could see her potential! And that person was me. I thought you believed in me, too! _Lore suddenly felt bitter and angry with himself. How couldn't he had seen it sooner?_ But you never really shared that dream to begin with, did you?_

Lore remembered their recent meeting on the subject with a feeling of regret.

He had been too self-absorbed to recognize the meaning of Data's words.

_Lore had been in the throes of a speech: 'Selene, the goddess of the moon. The moon, the __uninhabitable__ planet. The moon, the __lifeless__ rock that encircles the earth. The beautiful embrace of __death__… That is her legacy – that is __our__ ship's legacy,' Lore's mouth had twitched. 'Do you understand how this relates to your loyalty to the Selene, Data? Our vessel Selene was given the noble task of investigating planets humans would be unable to, the class D or H planets. Planets humans could not inhabit, but androids could.' Lore's voice had dropped to something no louder than a whisper. 'Those dead planets are our future, Data. The future of android colonisation... Who else could live there?' _

I wanted us to live on those planets together.

_Lore's voice had steadied. 'Do you still believe in this dream? Are your loyalties fading, brother?'_

_'What do you expect me to say, Captain?' Data had asked. 'I share in Dr Noonian Soong's dream. I believe what the Selene is doing for Soong-androids is good, and I think it is worthwhile and will help preserve our position in the Federation.'_

That had been such a diplomatic response. Why didn't I see past it?

_Diplomacy was never my strong point._

You never shared my dream, Data.

_'So you __do__ share this dream,' Lore had muttered. 'You share my dream. And yet, you call it "Dr Noonian Soong's dream" and not "our dream", not "our future".' _

Lore was annoyed with himself. He had been so presumptuous. It had _never_ been about _their_ future to Data!

_ Why didn't you tell me the truth, Data? Was I so untrustworthy to you? Were you so frightened of me?_

'I thought Data might have told you,' Dr Maddox began, breaching Lore's train of thought and forcing him back to reality, back to Omicron Theta. 'I'm sorry you had to find out this way.'

Lore hadn't realized he had been staring at Dr Maddox's chest, at that blue Starfleet uniform.

Blue...

_Data's human eyes are blue._

He stared up into Dr Maddox's concerned face.

'I would have found out sooner or later,' Lore mumbled, weakly. His eyes flitted to Dr Maddox's, remembering the dream he had about human-Data, a sad, pathetic smile crossing his face. 'Maybe I knew the truth deep down but was never willing to accept it. Reverse transference was never an impossibility, after all. I should have known better than to think Data would have wanted anything other than humanity.'

_I should have known better than to think Data would have wanted a future with me... But I always kept hoping, brother._

Lore walked onto the teleport pad at the lateral side of the room.

He turned to Dr Maddox and gave him a hard stare. 'I am going to find him.'

Lore suddenly stared up to the ceiling like Rin had done before her second suicide. The only difference was, unlike her, he was praying to some unknown and probably non-existant higher power.

_Just help me find my brother in one piece. I might be able to live with myself if he could find it within himself to forgive me. Just give me an opportunity to apologize for what I've done, for all the trouble I've caused.  
><em>

'Shuttle bay five.'

* * *

><p><em>AN: The Argo is the shuttlecraft that is used in Nemesis to find B-4._

_Also, I could really feel Lore's emotions as I was writing this. Hopefully it came across that way to you, also. _

_Oh, and the 'flashback' Lore is experiencing re: Data's loyalties is from Chapter 5: Meeting.  
><em>


	28. Tolerance

Sekai woke to a blur of images and sounds. As he sat up in the medical bay bed, he saw a ginger female with a pasty complexion on his bed, tugging her lilac uniform over her head and exposing small breasts cupped in a black bra. A sly smile on her face, she dropped the shirt to the floor and leaned on top of him.

Her fingers undid the tight bun in her hair and stroked his long hair.

'Anna,' Sekai murmured, his voice gentle and feminine. He reached for the woman's face with slender fingers. The officer, Anna, took his hand and nibbled gently on the side of his thumb.

Suddenly, he felt uncertainty, paranoia sneaking in. He felt as if he were being intruded upon, the room shrinking as if to encase him in a jail cell. Who was listening?

'Sekai, I know you're there,' Sekai hissed, gently pushing Anna off his chest. The thin woman scowled, unhappy at the interruption. 'Why don't you respect my privacy and get the hell out!?'

Sekai blinked. Anna was gone. He was alone in the medical storage bay.

A cold sweat appeared on his brow and he breathed heavily. He glanced at his hands. They were large and pale, covered in black gloves. He reached to his own head, feeling thick curls against his scalp. His hair had never been short. He felt dizzy. He felt around the bed, his hands shaking, searching for the hypospray. The side of his hand knocked something hard and he heard a clatter on the floor.

As he turned to look around the medical storage bay, he saw Selur standing before him. He kneeled, picking up the hypospray. Sekai reached for it, his arm shaking.

'Give me the hypospray,' he gasped. His fingers stretched, his knuckles aching in response to the exertion like they were about to pop out of his hand. 'Give me the hypospray, please! I need it!'

Selur smiled maliciously, his pointed chin curling. He waggled his eyebrows and dropped the hypospray onto the floor. 'Oops!'

Sekai threw the grey medical blanket to the floor and hopped out of the bed. He picked up the hypospray, but not before the room started to spin. He rolled onto his back, shutting his eyes tight. He clasped onto the hypospray with whatever strength he could muster and pressed the device into his neck. With a soft hissing sound, he injected whatever dose of psilosynine was left in the device.

Suddenly, a wave of nausea overwhelmed him. He rolled onto his side, a burning sensation rising in his throat. He vomited onto the floor, his abdomen shuddering with the force of the painful muscle contractions. To his despair, vomiting gave him no relief. Panting, he spat the final remnants of acid out of his mouth onto the floor. The room was still spinning.

His fingers found the blanket on the floor and dropped it over the clear-yellow bile on the floor.

With the world spinning around him, the best comfort was the darkness. The darkness, and the cold floor against his cheek.

_Where are the anti-emetics?_

When the room stabilised, he opened his eyes. Selur was nowhere to be seen. He squinted, the light burning his retinas, scanning the walls and identifying a series of blue and green colour-coded drawers. He had been in enough medical facilities to know that the anti-emetics or anti-nausea drugs could probably be found in there. Struggling to his feet and walking hunched over, he approached the drawers. As he opened one, the floor rocked underneath his feet like a water-boat on choppy water.

Suddenly, he was standing on the bridge of a Romulan vessel. He wore a grey and white uniform with large, blocky shoulder pads. He screwed up his nose at the view screen before him, a Betazoid Captain visible.

What a foolish man, did he think just because he was telepathic that he could toy with him?

Sekai spoke loudly and carefully. 'Our ships are detecting Federation vessels on the outskirts of the Neutral Zone. We believe you plan on sharing the circuit blueprints with them. Therefore, we hope you understand our hesitation to assist you,' Sekai stated, his voice self-assured and tone threatening. 'We find the circumstances surrounding this meeting highly suspect. Before we accept your officers on board for surgical alteration, we would like to surround space with antileptic particles to assure you have no way of communicating with the Federation ships.'

'If disabling their subspace communications makes you more comfortable, then we are happy to oblige,' The Betazoid Captain said simply. 'They are our enemy, so we believe your antileptic particles would be of benefit to us as it would interfere with their ability to communicate with one another.'

Sekai rose his pointed eyebrows. 'Very well.' He curled his lip at the Betazoid. 'Stay out of telepathic range with the Federation and we may yet believe you.'

Sekai turned to his tactical officer. Before him was a Soong android in front of a dark blue standing-console. He was wearing a Betazoid lilac officer uniform. His gold eyes shone in the red-alert lights.

'Commander Data, release the antileptic particles into space.'

Sekai blinked, finding himself on the floor to the medical bay once again. The migraines associated with the drug gripped his skull as if with a tight band. Sekai groaned, clutching his head in his hands, hoping the cool leather from the gloves would soothe him. As his hands pressed against his face he felt a plastic tube of a syringe pressing against his eyeball. He opened an eye, examining a syringe with zero point five milligrams of anti-emetic inside.

_Mr. Worf, if we approach the transport ship at warp speed uncloaked we may be assumed to be cooperating with the Betazoid vessel. It may arouse suspicion in the Romulans. They may not assist the Betazoid transport ship._

_Aye, Captain. That is a good plan. Note that our sensors are picking up damage on the Betazoid ship. Several of the decks have lost life support._

_What is the source?_

A woman's voice echoed in Sekai's head. He recognized the voice as a Starfleet Borg expert, the name of which he had forgotten._ It appears to be a broken window on deck five, sir._

_Could that be Lore's tactics? Is there a chance Commander Data is in the room with the broken window?_

_It is conceivable, but we cannot confirm at this range._

_Very well, show me. ZZbzt. Zzbzt. Mr. Worf? Commander Shelby? Ensign, what is wrong with our subspace system? Run a diagnostic, immediately.'_

Suddenly, red lights whirred in the ceiling of the medical storage bay. The voices became muffled in Sekai's mind.

Sekai straightened his right arm and tapped the skin around the concave crease over his elbow in the manner he had been taught. He pressed the point of the needle against his arm and slipped it under the skin. He injected the fluid into his veins. The pain was temporary. There was only a spot of blood. The syringe clattered to the floor.

He felt the nausea subside instantly, but his mind continued to be filled with voices and images that were not his own. He remained on the floor, the migraine trapping him within the pandemonium, a whirl of colours and sounds threatening to carry him away into a dream-like stupor...

* * *

><p>Bluxoy stormed into the medical storage bay, tying up her hair into a bun. She had been ready to yell at Sekai for spying on her private time with Anna, but when she saw him slumped on the floor, motionless, the anger dissipated immediately. She immediately sent out a telepathic signal calling for medical officers to assist her and then rushed to Sekai's side, trying to lift him. As soon as she touched him, however, Bluxoy sensed an aura of sickness coming from Sekai and she took a few steps backwards as he vomited on the floor, his back heaving.<p>

_Shit._

His system was becoming more tolerant to the drugs than she had realized. His metabolism was processing the drug at an exponential rate. The morphology of his telepathic circuits must be undergoing dramatic neural change. The receptor proteins that were meant to bind to the psilosynine must have been down regulated, the drug was becoming less and less effective.

The confusion and telepathic disorientation Sekai was currently experiencing was associated with an unstable meta-conscious mind, attributable to a greater sensitivity to psilosynine metabolites due to the presence of tumours. When the drug's metabolites were still circulating they invaded the synaptic cleft and interfered with calcium reuptake, necessary for resetting a neuron's given resting level of activity. This normally prolonged the effect of the drug. However, if the metabolites were being broken down more quickly by stray or abnormal levels of enzymes as a result of chemical messengers released by the tumour it lead to temporary side effects until the drug wore of completely, when telepathic abilities would disappear. Effects like a lack of control over telepathic intrusion, including an increased and unstable range of detection.

If the drug had lasted three hours, it meant it was being processed four times as quickly easily several standard deviations from normal. According to the Betazoid medical literature, this usually only occurred in the late stages of the cancer.

_You'll have to be under constant medical watch, Sekai._

Medical officers rushed into the room and immediately pressed cortical stimulators to Sekai's head over the temporal lobes. Sekai's body shook with sudden seizures. Bluxoy looked away, unable to watch the muscles in his neck and face clenching, unclenching and hearing the clicking as his teeth clamped together. Inducing seizures was a way of quickly removing the psilosynine metabolites from the system of a Betazoid by forcing reuptake into the neural synapses. It forced the drug to be processed faster by the brain. It was a crude method, but it was the only working method at this stage of the disease.

Sekai was rolled over onto his back by the Betazoid medical officers. They checked his pupil reflex with a small tortchlight and checked for any horizontal nystagmus left over before using a hypospray to inject pain killers into his neural net. Once the medical officers had checked his blood pressure and heart rate and determined them to be normal they stood out of the way so Bluxoy could speak to him.

The medical officers proceeded to clean the mess on the floor and set up the bay for monitoring.

_You're not going to be leaving any time soon, Sekai. I'm sorry._

Bluxoy kneeled by Sekai's side and rest a hand on his shoulder. She sensed relief from the man, but she could also sense disorientation and confusion.

_Do you know what I'm thinking or are you stuck in a whirlwind of incomprehensible images and sounds? Do you know that we recently got in contact with the Romulan ships? Did you know they're considering taking you on board - taking us on board?_

'Federation ships have been detected outside the Neutral Zone,' Bluxoy leaned towards his ear and whispered to him. 'Were you able to sense anything from them?'

Sekai groaned. Bluxoy sensed a wave of irritation come from him, but it was mixed with sudden nausea and dizziness. The Betazoid male gasped, a light sweat appearing on his brow. His breathing quickened.

'Is that all you care about? I'm dying… and all you care about is whether… in my deteriorating state, whether my hypersensitive telepathy was able to pick up on enemy tactics...'

'Before you condemn me, remember that it was your idea to use it to find the Selene when they were outside our normal range of detection.'

Sekai sighed, closing his eyes. 'The Selene is out there... So is the Enterprise and Defiant... They want to make it look like we're allied with them... They recognize that we're allied with the Romulans and want to drive them away. They also know we're missing life support on several decks. And I saw… on the Romulan ship…' he gasped, his eyes squinting shut. Bluxoy sensed nausea overwhelm him. Bluxoy waited patiently for him to continue. She wasn't about to risk being ill for the sake of information as would occur if she tried telepathically linking with him. Sekai spoke in a hoarse voice. 'Commander Data on the bridge… at tactical… was he actually there on the bridge?'

Bluxoy frowned. 'Data? No, nobody has seen him since his escape.'

Bluxoy was suddenly gently pulled to the side as a doctor placed a number of tungsten-coated electrodes at regular intervals on Sekai's scalp and connected the cords to a large display. It was a simple and inexpensive electroencephalogram but it would be useful for monitoring any gross changes in neural activity. Bluxoy listened to Sekai's voice as she was pulled away.

'What was he doing there? What was the Borg lady doing on the Federation ship? We're not Borg… The Klingon man, his voice was so controlled and not at all rough, unlike Klingon. Maybe he...'

Feeling sorry for Bluxoy and his desperate rambling, she left the room, silently vowing that she would return when the drugs had worn off. It would be tough to convince him stop taking it for the sake of his health, but maybe with the prospect of becoming android in sight he might be willing to give up his powers, regardless of how temporary they were.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Ironic thing to say given the content and subject matter of the last few chapters but I may have experienced the closest thing to a manic episode recently. _

_I had 5 hours of sleep one night, followed by 3 the following day, and then none at all the next day. I was writing nearly constantly which is why so many chapters were posted, and I had a lot of energy. I have never had that kind of problem before. The problem being losing really abnormally large levels of sleep from engaging in creative pursuits and mentally and emotionally feeling full of energy. I managed to get a very disjointed 10 hours sleep last night, but I really had to force myself to do it and it was extremely difficult to sleep. Yeesh. You'd think it would have been _easy_ considering how tired my body should have been and given how badly I normally cope with sleep deprivation, but the mania had really powerful effects. It shouldn't be underestimated (or so I have learned). _

_I have never had to try suppress creative urges, but I suppose for my mental and physical health I have to. And now I have to force myself to sleep again before I'm kept up all night. So you'll have to forgive me if the number of chapters I post suddenly slow down (assuming it wasn't annoying).  
><em>

_On a side note, apparently my thesis was well received! I don't know the mark yet but I coincidentally was in a meeting with one of the assessors and he told me was one of my markers and that he really loved it. So that's a plus! Good to know the year's work has paid off._


	29. Reunion

Once in the Argo, Lore left orbit from Omicron Theta and set a course for the Neutral Zone. The shuttlecraft jerked and the engine roared as it forced its way out of Omicron Theta's upper atmosphere. After several minutes the Argo broke free. The engine roar reduced to a gentle hum.

Lore engaged warp drive. The engine rumbled to life and the Argo sped forward into deep space.

Every few minutes the shuttleship would shudder underneath him as the warp nacelle displacement field integrity stammered. The Argo clearly hadn't been in use for years.

Warp four was the fastest he could travel, but it would have to do. Six hours travel was something he could deal with. The problem was if the Enterprise or Selene had moved. How would he know? He had no contact with them. He would have to wait in empty space for six more hours until he could be picked up by a ship with better warp capability, with a better chance of finding them.

Lore leaned back in his chair and watched the stars flit past. He engaged autopilot and kicked his feet up on the edge of the dashboard, closing his eyes.

What was he going to say when he saw Data?

_'I know about the body. I know what you're going to do. Why didn't you tell me?'_

_Then Data might say, 'I could not trust you with personal matters, Captain.'_

_Lore imagined him shuffling closer to Data, perhaps the two of them sitting on the floor of the Argo. 'You know, Data… I'm not a Captain anymore. What does that make you and me?'_

He could not imagine how Data would react to that. Sure, they had been together once romantically, but Data had made it perfectly clear that was not a future he wanted again. Data had made it clear that he wanted to be close to Lore in absolutely no meaningful capacity, not even as brothers.

_Too bad_, Lore thought, a sly smile crossing his face. _At the very least, we'll be brothers again. I think I deserve that much._

Lore frowned, suddenly imagining the mangled and destroyed human body in the black container - Data's body.

He could love Data, sure, but what about that _thing_?

As much as he hated to admit it, he had never felt any semblance of attraction to any human. Could that change? If it was Data, could it change?

Lore suddenly remembered Brent standing pathetically before Rin twenty minutes earlier.

'_Changes in a race can take decades, even hundreds or thousands of years!' Lore had argued.  
><em>

_'But what about in people?' Brent had demanded. 'What about change in the people you care about?!'_

Yes, what about people?

Was Lore going to be like Rin and hold a prejudice towards a race, a race that existed for circumstantial reasons only? After all, it wasn't Lore's fault he existed in an android body. He may have been born a human or a Klingon. It was only chance's fault he was the way he was.

_It was a lucky break_._ I got lucky._

And yet, could he change? Could he love a human even if it was Data? In the dream he had decided yes, but Lore wasn't so sure now. Maybe he could love Data, but he wasn't sure if he could be physically attracted to him. Could they be lovers again? Did Data want that?

Lore decided he couldn't know the answer to those questions just yet. He would have to face that road when he came to it. But there was one thing he was certain of. He still wanted to have Data in his life. It didn't have to be in a romantic capacity, but if they could be brothers again…

_If we can be brothers again, Data, I think I could be happy. Human or not._

* * *

><p>Once Lore reached the border of the Neutral Zone six hours later, he was painfully aware of how empty it was. He was at the coordinates the Enterprise had been sent to, and yet there was nothing in sight.<p>

_I suppose I shouldn't be surprised…_

Lore turned off autopilot and activated the Argo's console. He did a basic scan of the area for space disruptions. He recognized minor rifts in the surrounding area that suggested warp drive had been engaged at those spots. The trails dissipated from the point Lore was currently at and seemed stronger towards the Neutral Zone.

_God damn it._

The ships must be inside the Neutral Zone. That meant the Romulans had to be involved. And if they were, he wouldn't be able to detect them until they were on top of him due to their cloaking devices.

Lore turned the Argo around and moved at impulse speed, steering the shuttlecraft along the border as he considered what to do. He wasn't willing to send a subspace signal into the Neutral Zone. The Romulans would surely detect it and go after him.

Lore decided to perform a number of scans within the Argo's limited capabilities. He searched for nearby debris and any radiation or subspace signals within a ten hundred kilometre radius.

He detected micro-fragments of titanium glass in a slowly moving trail in his current direction. If there had been a fight in the area, perhaps the glass was part of the remaining debris. Maybe the Romulan or Betazoid ship had retreated into the Neutral Zone to avoid further damage, maybe to collect reinforcements.

_I guess I better wait for the others_, Lore thought bitterly. _But I'm sure as hell not waiting for them here._

Having nothing better to do for six hours, he decided to follow the direction of micro-titanium alloy shards. According to the scan they slowly fanned out over ten hundred kilometers from a single focal point. Maybe there would be something along the trail that might offer some information about the conflict that had occurred there.

Lore calculated a vector for the Argo to travel on and moved at impulse speed, deciding to return in time to meet with the other ships. He activated the Argo's pathetic tractor beam, ready to auto-pull inside anything that looked remotely interesting or was larger than glass shards. For the most part, however, the ship's sensors seemed to tell him that there was nothing but glass for several miles.

It would be a way to pass the time, at least.

* * *

><p>After several hours of travelling on the single trajectory, the Argo suddenly dragged several items into the storage bay. The storage bay was at the back of the Argo where the dune buggy was located. When Lore entered the storage bay to investigate he saw phasers and rifles scattered across the floor. Lore kneeled and picked up the devices, his eyes widening as he recognized the purple band around the head of the weapons. He picked up a phaser and fired it at the floor for 0.3 seconds. A purple beam seared through the first few layers of metal hull with apparent ease.<p>

Yes, these were definitely Betazoid weapons.

And that meant the Betazoid ship had been damaged. If it was in the Neutral Zone now, the Romulans and Betazoid must be working together. Suddenly, how the Betazoid acquired the weapons made a great deal of sense. They must have given the Romulans Federation weapons to alter. In addition, they must have acquired the cloaking device from the Romulans. That meant the Romulans must have been getting something from the Betazoid in return. Maybe the circuit that Sekai fellow was developing... maybe Data? Lore couldn't be sure.

Lore collected the devices in his arms and dumped them on the chair next to his seat with a clatter, not bothering to pick up the rifles that fell off the seat or got caught on the arm rests. He emptied his pocket, discarding the phaser Brent had used and replacing it with one of the other phasers, deciding that they had more charge left in them.

Suddenly, he heard the clunk of metal in the Argo's cargo bay. It was probably another weapon.

Sighing, Lore entered through the automatic doors to the cargo bay from the cockpit and the lights flickered to life once again. His eyes scanned the floor and underneath the Argo dune buggy, searching for the item the tractor beam had secured. Suddenly, his eyes landed on the object. It was a hand, a golden hand, broken between the wrist and elbow, green, white and black circuits visible at the sheared section.

His ears ringing, Lore crashed into the dune buggy as he attempted to take a shortcut around it. He dented his shoulder in his enthusiasm, but he didn't care.

_Data!?_

Lore reached the hand and held the limp metal limb in his hands, balancing it between his fingers like an archaeological artefact. He rolled the disembodied hand around in his hand, his eyes focusing on the wound. The wound had been caused by an explosion, that much was clear. Too many circuits were charred and the bioplast skin was peeled backwards and hardened too much like an asteroid crater for it to be anything else.

Lore carried the arm back to the cockpit with him and sat in his chair, examining it. If there had been a weapons arsenal, maybe there had been a bomb inside. Maybe it had exploded which was why Data was in pieces, scattered in space. Maybe the hand was but one of many pieces that he would find.

Lore's heart sank, his hands shaking. He crunched over in his chair, holding the disembodied hand to his cheek, Data's lifeless cold fingers chilling his face. The pain that had wrought Lore's chest at the thought of losing Data to the reverse-transference procedure returned to him, searing his throat.

He breathed in a deep, shuddering breath.

_No… No…_

Was Data dead?

If he was, it would be entirely his fault. Lore had insisted he deactivate his own communication chip and Data had done the logical thing at the time – insist his Captain not deactivate the chip since he needed it to communicate with the crew. Data had done something kind to Lore and deactivated his chip for Lore's sake. Maybe if Lore had some self control and hadn't been so demanding maybe Data would still have his communication chip active. Maybe Lore would have been able to find him – prevented _this_ from happening.

_I'm a failure._

Lore screwed his eyes shut. He felt tears falling down his cheeks, dripping onto Data's disembodied hand. It was the first time he had ever cried sober and it felt very raw, and very painful.

_I deserve this… _

Lore hugged the arm closer to his chest.

_I'm sorry, Data._

* * *

><p>Data woke from a deep slumber from the sensation of his side hitting something very flat and hard. Recognising the pull of gravity against his circuits, he gathered he must have hit an asteroid or some other space debris. Perhaps he would be able to change course.<p>

He opened his eyes. However, he saw not the void of space, but a grey cargobay wall. He was not in space anymore. Data rolled over and pushed himself up, glancing around the cargo bay. It was very small, belonging to that of a shuttlecraft. He focused on the dune buggy in the bay more closely and recognized it. It belonged to the Enterprise. This must be the Argo.

Had he been rescued? If so, why was nobody coming to collect him?

Getting to his feet, Data walked towards the automatic doors. They hissed open, revealing a nearly empty cockpit. Nearly empty, except for a Soong android who was lying on the floor in a fetal position by a pile of weapons. Data's eyes scanned the android's back. He recognized the android's jumpsuit, but could not determine the android's identity from this angle. It could be Brent based on the short hair, but it could also be Lore…

Data circled the android and stared down at its face. The Soong android on the floor had no scar across his face, which meant it could be only one person. Lore. His Captain. And he was fast asleep.

Data kneeled, noticing Lore was holding something close to him, his arms wrapped around it like a doll. Seeing a spec of gold between the yellow sleeves and several fingers poking out from under Lore's neck, Data realized what Lore was holding – _his arm_.

In a moment of realization, Data gathered the Betazoid must have disposed of it, perhaps to remove any evidence that Data had ever been on board. Data stared at Lore's peaceful sleeping visage and glanced at the hand that Lore was clutching so desperately.

_You must have missed me, Captain._

Data got to his feet and approached the console, recognising that the Argo was moving at impulse speed on a single vector on autopilot. Data unlocked the console by swiping it with a finger. The console let out a soft beep as it whirred to life, yellow, green and red filling the darkened cockpit with a gentle glow. Data increased the luminance of the room by sliding his finger in an upward vertical motion across the console.

He heard a voice croak from behind him, from the floor.

'D-Data?'

Data turned and saw Lore crawling to his feet. He held Data's disembodied limb in his hand like a small child might hold a stuffed bear.

Lore's eyes were bloodshot, but his eyes were wide and alert nonetheless.

'You're alive?' Lore murmured, as if in a daze.

_Were you crying, Captain?_

'If your emotion chip is active,' Data began, 'the Betazoid may be able to detect us. I recommend you disable it.'

Lore's eyebrows furrowed. He was still staring wide-eyed at Data like he couldn't believe he was there, as if he were still trying to determine if he were real.

'If they wanted to find me they would have already,' Lore said simply. Lore's eyes glanced down at Data's broken arm and then his eyebrows rose. Lore held out Data's arm towards its rightful owner, grinning sheepishly. 'You know, Data, there's a lot I need to talk to you about.'

Data took the hand and held it against his broken arm, ignoring Lore. After a few seconds of contact, the tiny black drones clutched at the limb and he was able to release his it as the nano-drones restitched it together. Data rose his eyebrows at Lore whose face was that of apprehension.

'Is the Enterprise with you?' Data asked, suddenly. 'If you are using the Argo then you must have been in contact with the Enterprise.'

Lore's lips twitched downwards. 'Uh, the Enterprise is not with me at the moment, no… The Enterprise, Selene, and Defiant are all in the Neutral Zone which is where the Betazoid transport ship probably is. I was waiting for reinforcements… Speaking of which – hang on.'

Lore suddenly approached the console and, perhaps to hide his twitching fingers, pressed several buttons on the console. Suddenly, the Argo shuddered as it came to a stop. Lore pressed a few more buttons. The Argo slowly started to perform a stationary turn, activating several of the lateral thrusters. Once it had performed a 180 degree turn, Lore pressed the autopilot button. The Argo recommenced its course along the vector but in the opposite direction. Lore's hands were still jittering, but he hid them in his pockets.

'How did you escape?' Lore asked him, his eyes avoiding Data's. 'I thought a bomb had been detonated.' His eyes stopped on Data's left arm which was now fully repaired. 'But you seem to be fine…'

Data remembered how he had escaped through the window to the Betazoid transport ship. He explained it to Lore who nodded, absorbing the story without any major questions, but he seemed distracted. His pupils kept focusing and refocusing on his face as if he kept drifting in and out of awareness. Once he had stopped explaining, Lore's eyes were alert again.

Lore stared at Data's eyes. As he stared, Data stared back, not sure what Lore was looking for – the frantic speed at which his eyes darted from one eye to the other suggested that he was looking for something.

'What did you want to talk about?' Data asked.

'I want to talk about _us_, brother.'

'What about us?' Data said. 'There is nothing to talk about.'

Lore's eyebrows narrowed then, his shoulders seizing as if ready to fight. After a few split seconds of this he sighed and his shoulders became relaxed. He eyeballed Data with suspicion.

'I think I would prefer to talk to you with your emotion chip _on_,' Lore said, his tone that of mild irritation, smiling weakly. 'I want to talk about our _feelings_, but it would only make sense to do so if we _had_ feelings… right, brother?'

'I understand your concern,' Data said simply. His eyes scanned in a horizontal trajectory. 'I will reactivate my emotion chip.'

* * *

><p>As Data reactivated his emotion chip, his entire demeanor changed. His eyes filled with new life and tears filled his eyes very quickly. It was so alarming Lore instinctively reached out to touch Data's cheek, but Data stepped out of the way leaving Lore's hand hovering in the hair. Data's eyes glanced at the ground, his shoulders shaking.<p>

'B-brother,' Data stammered. His mouth hung open and let out a shuddering breath. As he blinked, tears raced down his cheeks and left damp patches on his lilac Betazoid jumpsuit. He sniffed, his eyes scanning from side to side and then at Lore. His voice was barely louder than a whisper, but was a desperate whine. 'Brother…'

'What's wrong? You can tell me,' Lore said quickly, hoping his voice sounded warm. Lore let his hand drop to his side, but he raised his arms in an inviting motion. 'C'mon, Data, this is really unexpected. I thought you might have wanted to hit me or something like that, not … not _this_,' Lore's face twitched into a small smile. 'Y'know, I can't tell you how much it means to me for you to call me that again. For you to call me your brother...'

Data turned away from Lore and pressed his hands into his face. Lore could hear his breathing steady. When Data turned around, he seemed to have regained composure, but his lip still trembled.

'I apologize, Captain,' Data said quickly. 'I have… I could not help but – I was overwhelmed by sudden fear. It was as if the terror of being trapped alone and drifting in space hit me all at once, and I felt I were in mortal peril. All I knew was that you had been in a similar situation to me... that you knew how to get out of it,' Data smiled faintly, exhaling deeply. 'It is a relief to be alive. I am grateful that you came for me.'

Lore could have focused on several things in that sentence. He could have focused on the terror of being trapped in space or he could have focused on Data's gratitude that he had been saved. But one thing stood out from the rest, and that was that Data had suddenly reverted to calling him Captain again.

_No, we're not doing this again, Data._

'Don't call me that,' Lore said stiffly. 'Don't call me your Captain. I'm not your Captain anymore. I have been stripped of rank. You'll have to call me something else.'

'Lore?'

Lore nodded numbly. 'Or brother…' Lore paused.

He had to breach the subject of the body somehow, quickly - he didn't want to explain to Data why he had been stripped of rank just yet - it would be yet another delay for what he really wanted to talk about. He had to ask about the body in Dr Maddox's lab. It was the metaphorical elephant in the room. Here he was, having saved an android, when his flesh would soon be something quite different. It was hard to look at Data's eyes without being reminded that they would be blue in the near future. That he would be something else.

Lore continued. 'Let me ask you something, Data. Is it possible for a human and an android to be brothers?'

Something changed in Data's face, then. Lore could have sworn he saw the traces of guilt. Data's jaw closed, his eyes no longer filled with fear, but regret.

_Yes, you know what I'm referring to, don't you? You know you lied to me._

'I am sorry, but I do not know what you are referring to,' Data said simply. But his eyes betrayed him all too well.

Lore scowled. _Don't give me that bullshit!_

'You liar! I saw the body in Dr Maddox's office and he told me everything – he told me how you were going to undergo this reverse-transference procedure when we arrived at Omicron Theta and that the body was waiting for you when you returned. He told me how you have been funding this in secret for the last ten years, and all I can think of is 'Why didn't Data tell me?' 'If he trusted me, he would have told me.' And the only conclusion I can come to is that you didn't trust me – you didn't want to hurt me in case I did something to hurt you – am I wrong?'

Data's gaze went to the floor and his face was blank. Maybe he was trying to figure out how to respond, Lore wasn't sure. What he was sure of was that Data was intentionally delaying a response.

'So, what's the story, Data? Am I right or wrong?' Lore demanded.

Several long moments passed, too long for Lore's comfort. Was this really so hard for Data to admit? He had admitted similar things to him several times before - that he didn't like Lore's behaviour, that he didn't trust him. Was this so different? Was admitting that he hadn't trusted him _while_ they were in a relationship together so difficult?

Lore found his insides boiling with impatience, but he struggled to repress the instinct to yell or snap at Data.

'You are correct,' Data said slowly. 'I do not trust you, Lore. I did not feel comfortable telling you.'

_So, back to square one._

Lore suddenly cleared his throat. 'Data, I want you to know something. I didn't come here to berate you for your decision. I realize that it's different than my own and if I am supposed to keep you in my life, I have to respect it – no matter how hard it may be for me to understand. The reason I came here is because I wanted to apologize…' Lore had imagined this moment so many times, he wasn't sure how many times he had rehearsed this particular version. It didn't matter though, he was getting the truth out one way or another and he only hoped it would be accepted. 'Data, I'm sorry for what I did to you ten years ago. I'm sorry for overstepping my bounds. And I'm sorry if I ever made you do anything that you were uncomfortable with. And…' Lore smiled sadly, staring at Data with earnest. 'I'm sorry it took this long to admit it to you.'

Data's forehead creased with sudden concern and uncertainty. It was if he were confused.

'I must admit I am surprised at you, Lore,' Data explained. 'I never imagined you would have apologized to me. Given your past behaviour, receiving an apology from you seemed like a highly improbable event,' He looked bewildered as he continued. 'You have exceeded my expectations.'

'So…' Lore began, feeling relief wash over him. That certainly didn't sound like rejection. He sighed, trying to give Data a hopeful and friendly smile. 'So, would you be willing to accept your crazy older brother as part of your life again?'

Data frowned. The silence was painful to listen to. Why the hesitation?

'Could you accept a human being as your brother, Lore?' Data asked.

_So I'm not the only one who wondered._

'Yes,' Lore nodded, earnestly. Yes, of course he could! Lore approached Data and grasped his hands in his own, giving them a squeeze. 'If that human was you, yes.'

Fear filled Data's eyes as soon as Lore had made contact with him. Data's hands were limp in his grip. Was Data's fear of him so deeply ingrained that simple touch was difficult for him to deal with?

Fearing the worst, Lore released Data's hands.

Data's eyes widened at Lore once again.

'Lore, I do not understand why you would do this,' he admitted. 'I do not understand why you would you go through so many difficulties for my sake. After all these years I have ignored you, "kept you at arm's length" as the humans describe it, but once you thought I was about to leave the Selene you tried to keep me close to you. But why would you when I have caused you nothing but pain? Why would you go through so much trouble? Is there something you want from me?'

_Yes, there is something I want, _Lore thought mournfully. _I want you, Data._

He gazed at Data's lips, feeling tormented as he reminded himself that those lips would be human very soon. His cheeks would no longer be firm and cold, but clammy and warm with blood vessels running underneath. If Lore had held the hands of a human with the tightness of the grip he had just held Data's with, the bones would have broken under the force. And Data… Data might not even _be_ Data soon. When Data became human, would he forget Lore, would he forget who he was? Would Data remember the struggles they had gone through to get to this point?

'I went through so much trouble,' Lore began, softly. 'Because I love you, brother.'

Lore couldn't help himself. He reached up to touch Data's face and slipped his hand behind the nape of Data's cold neck, giving it a gentle squeeze. As he did, Data's expression changed from fear to something else, something Lore couldn't read. It was as if he were remembering something.

Lore's eyes fell on Data's lips, feeling a deep and repressed hunger rising within him.

_Just let me have you one last time._

He closed his eyes, forcing the desire away.

_Get a grip on yourself, idiot._

He had to restrain himself, restrain the impulse telling him to move closer to the android and _show_ him just what he _meant_ by his words. He wanted to take Data in his arms and hold him close. To tell him not to go ahead with the procedure - to not become human. But he knew he could do no such thing. Data would not trust him, and this meeting was all about regaining his trust, wasn't it?

Suddenly, Data reached behind his head and pulled Lore's hand away from him. He was smiling sadly.

'I do not think you could ever love a human, dear brother.'

* * *

><p><em>AN: Thank you, 'Guest', for your comments on the last few chapters. I'm sorry to hear the schizoid thing was contrived, guess it's something to be wary of in future. Also, apologies if I got too personal in the last few A/Ns... It probably wasn't appropriate. But I'm glad you think that overall the story is an improvement over Mirror Image. At least I've accomplished that much.  
><em>


	30. Reflections

'I went through so much trouble,' Lore began, softly. 'Because I love you, brother.'

Suddenly, Lore reached up to touch Data's face and slipped his hand behind the nape of Data's cold neck, giving it a gentle squeeze.

As Lore touched Data's neck, the android was suddenly reminded of something he had thought during the sessions with Sekai, where he imagined he was on the Selene with Lore discussing the subject of help, of assistance.

_'Brother, I would be more than happy to assist you, provided you do me a certain favour,' Lore crooned, his palm slowly stroking the hair on Data's scalp. _

_'A favour, sir?'_

_Lore released his hand from Data's head._

_'I'm sorry, brother, I didn't hear that. What did you say?'_

_'A favour, brother?' _

_Lore's hand snaked to Data's neck and gave it a gentle squeeze. 'That's right.'_

Lore had helped him. Lore had saved him. It would be cruel not to recognize their relationship, not to let Lore in, at this point. After all, it was a matter of fair exchange and he could show Lore he was grateful without reverting to his previous submissive tendencies, tendencies Lore had drilled into him.

That considered, Data still couldn't shake a feeling rising within him at Lore's confession. A feeling that reminded him of the good times they had spent together years ago – a feeling that made his body tingle with an embracing warmth. Was this an artifact of an android's tendency to remember with perfect clarity, or was the warmth providing critical information about his current state of being?

As Data paid attention the gentle pressure of Lore's fingers on the nape of his neck, Data realized that he was not frightened of the touch. He had been alarmed, yes, even frightened when Lore had grabbed his hands - but Lore had acted quickly and suddenly. Data knew all too well that Lore's more common quick and sudden movements involved striking him or throwing glass at him - acts of violence. Data had every reason to be alarmed. But Lore's current action displayed a gentleness that Data had known only when they were in a relationship. Something, he realized, he felt nostalgic over – something he may admit to himself he missed, but was not willing to admit to Lore – not until he understood it.

From where had the comfort arisen?

_His change in behaviour. _

Was it possible that Lore might not be aggressive with him? If Lore had changed, had finally learned restraint, did that mean there was hope that their relationship could be different? Data had to admit, the possibility made him feel hopeful. That years of distance had been put between them made Data consider renewing their relationship, if only for a short while, because surely by now Lore's conditioning would have expired? He could make decisions concerning their relationship with some autonomy now, could he not?

But even if they did renew their relationship, Data knew it could not last. If there was one thing about Lore that was unlikely to change it was the nature of his feelings for humans – in other words, his hatred of them. He could pretend to like them for the sake of diplomacy, however badly he hid his discomfort and resentment, but he could never force love upon one of them.

One could never force one's sexuality to change, unless that was its nature to begin with, the Trill being an obvious example. But Lore was no Trill. He had circuits that could be programmed to change, but by this point any change of that nature would be unnatural even if they were initiated by Lore himself.

_Lore, if you love me now as you claim to it is unlikely that you will do so for much longer. When I become human a new distance will grow between us, one not so simply repaired by the passage of time or some behavioural changes on your part. You cannot change your nature no more than I can change my own, not without betraying the very essence of our beings._

Suddenly, Lore's touch no longer comforted him, even if it had been the echo of comfort from long ago.

Data reached behind his head and pulled Lore's hand away from him. He was smiling sadly. Smiling because he could not bear to show his brother the stern face of rejection in the face of his kindness. He had to show gratitude, even mere traces of it, where possible. Lore had risked his life to save him so close to Romulan space.

'I do not think you could ever love a human, dear brother.'

'You're right. I don't know if I can,' Lore grumbled, raising his eyes to glance at Data, 'But I could try – I'm willing to try – don't give up on me now, Data. To be honest, if there was some way for me to revive our old relationship I would, but that failing I would be happy to consider us brothers.'

_Your persistence is admirable, brother, if misguided._

Data sat down in one of the chairs facing the window and looked into space, his expression blank. He wanted to avoid staring into Lore's enthusiastic and desperate gaze least he lose himself in it, in case it was contagious and he too began to consider the wild possibilities that were beginning to present themselves.

If he could return to the Selene on a different shuttleship, with a different crew, he would have preferred it. Until that moment, he had been able to avoid making private conversation with Lore on the Selene, claiming that anything other than the relationship between a Captain and First Officer was inappropriate – but now Lore was no longer Captain that excuse would no longer be acceptable. Now Data had admitted to try and restore their relationship in a brotherly capacity that meant being open to discussions about other aspects of their relationship.

Data heard Lore sit in the pilot's chair and saw his head move towards him out of the corner of his eye. As he did, something Data's insides seemed to shrivel up. He could not hold up the ignorance façade for long - he could not hide beyond a veil of silence forever, and even Lore knew it.

'Come on, brother, let's talk about this more,' Lore urged. 'Don't ignore me. You've been ignoring me for too long. I mean – look - I _apologized_, you called me your brother again – that's progress, isn't it? But you're hesitating for some reason. Why don't you open up to me? I want to help you feel comfortable.'

Data's gaze fell to the console board. He felt irritation rise but dared not show it. Irritation not at Lore, but at himself. Lore was being reasonable and by ignoring him, Data was not. The prospect of being unreasonable was not something he felt comfortable with.

'You do not sound like the Lore I am familiar with,' Data began, still staring out the window. It was not a lie or an excuse, just an attempt to provoke delay. To give Data a few more moments to process what he was observing in Lore, and what it meant for them.

It was true, Lore was _not_ the same. It seemed somewhere along the way, over the past few days, Lore had abandoned his pride, his arrogance, because he considered Data's opinion of him more important. Data felt his resolve crumble a little more each time Lore persisted, and each time Lore did not resort to insults or questionable tactics his resolve broke even more. Each time Lore was reasonable, Data found it more difficult to be unreasonable by ignoring him - by not considering his proposal. After all, only a sound mind could entertain sound possibilities. And it was starting to look like Lore was more sound of mind than he was. After all, if he were sound of mind would he not be considering Lore's suggestions in a logical manner instead of avoiding the discomfort that continuously rose to the surface of his neural net?

'Well, now I think you're just _trying_ to find reasons not to trust me,' Lore said, holding back a laugh. Lore held his arms out as if to present himself to Data, as if to show to him that he was no threat. 'Is it so hard to believe that I might change?'

_I cannot do this anymore._

Data looked at Lore, his eyes filled with uncertainty. He spoke slowly and carefully, trying not to reveal too much at once.

'Brother,' Data began, letting a sigh escape his lips, 'I admit I am both impressed and surprised by your apparent change in behaviour. Assuming this is a permanent change, I feel like it would be unreasonable not to reconsider my prior position regarding the nature of our relationship. In addition, I must confess that despite my hesitation I do miss spending time with you and being close to you, Lore. But I would like to stress that I do not miss or cherish all our previous moments together even when our relationship was in a romantic capacity, only the ones where we were on equal footing with one another. Do you understand?'

Lore's eyes were wide, filled with the possible promises of the future, of hopes, dreams, and desire. To Data's surprise, his fervent gaze did not falter in response to his suggestion. He was clearly willing to consider stepping down from his previous position of superiority over Data. It was something he had started to do the day Data left him, but not something Data entirely believed until that moment. After all, if it had persisted to this day surely it was not an attempt to manipulate him? There was an earnestness in Lore's eyes that Data found compelling.

'I do understand,' Lore began, taking a few short steps towards Data. 'Of course I understand.' Lore held his hand up by Data's cheek but pulled back before he touched it, apparently considering that too much to impose on the android at the time. 'So why the hesitation? Don't you believe me? Aren't you willing to forgive me?

Lore's hand hovered by Data's arm as if he were about to hold onto it or give Data a comforting squeeze, but he retracted his hand.

Lore's continuous attempts to try and touch Data had not escaped the android's attention, and he was surprised to find his body reacting in an unexpected manner to the events. The distance between their bodies became a matter of intense scrutinty, and long lost passions seemed to follow naturally to his attention as if they were playing a game - as if the near-contact was the source of hidden pleasures. Data's insides burned with a sudden fire, but did he dare let himself feel such things again? The weight of the sensation's meaning rose with equal voracity. After all, he had long considered the desire a weakness, a result of Lore's influence via the communication chip, but great uncertainty and trepidation now gripped him - if Lore's behavioural conditioning was over and past the extinction phase who else could he attribute the feelings to but himself? The feelings had to be genuine if they had lasted so long. The very thought was frightening to him. Was he so perverse to gain pleasure from a lack of contact - from the mere suggestion of it?

'Try not to be hasty,' Data urged, speaking not only to Lore but to himself - to the emotions that had suddenly gripped him. 'If we are to consider reviving our relationship, I would like it to be after I undergo the reverse-transference procedure. That way, there is no potential for unnecessary pain in case you find it impossible to consider me a potential mate, an event which seems highly likely.'

It would also give him time to process his current feelings.

'There already _is_ unnecessary pain,' Lore said, his voice low, a tone of defeat in his voice. He became animated. 'I mean, look at us! Look at _me!_ I don't want to see my favourite android, my only brother, disappear because his memories were incorrectly transferred. What if you forgot about me, about yourself? There is no guarantee you'll be the same person at the end of the procedure.'

'And there is no guarantee that you will continue to love me at the end of it, either,' Data asserted.

Data and Lore stared at each other with dumbfounded silence. The parallels between their predicaments suddenly became clear.

With that observation, Data felt like he was beginning to understand Lore's determination to try and continue loving him as a human despite the high chance of failure. Data held the same determination concerning the reverse-transference procedure in that he was willing to take the risk despite the high chance of failure. In that case, their situations were not so different than one another. It was a remarkable realization, and an important one. Maybe Data could begin to put things in perspective.

_It would seem we are not so different from one another, brother._

Lore seemed to have reached the same thought-process as Data.

'If you want to go ahead with this procedure despite the odds,' Lore began, the corners of his lips curling upwards. 'If you want me to support your endeavour with the reverse-transference operation, then as your brother I think you should support me back. You should have faith in me that I might be able to love you as a human. Otherwise we might as well declare our relationship unbalanced. Dare I say unequal?'

Data blinked. His mouth opened and closed, looking for a loophole in Lore's argument. He could have argued that the procedures were fundamentally different from one another and the argument was thus invalid – after all, one was a physical procedure and the other was a procedure of the mind, of the heart. But at the end of it, turning into a human involved a procedure of the heart (Data's determination to take the risk), of the mind (the manipulation of the substance of memory and sensory qualia), and of the body (it changing from android to human).

Data found it hard to find a hole in Lore's argument and so suddenly found himself in the position of having to resolve his contradictory feelings in that single moment. It would be inappropriate and irresponsible for him to continue with his foolish attempts to delay the analysis of his emotions - of the desire and comfort he felt for Lore, however sudden or uncertain he considered them.

If he accepted an equal relationship between the two of them, even as brothers, he had to support his brother's feelings. And if the only thing holding him back from reciprocating Lore's confession was uncertainty regarding Lore's feelings towards him if he were to become human, then there was no reason he should avoid rekindling their relationship before the reverse-transference procedure. They could face the procedure together, as partners.

The absolute nature of the realization left little room to wiggle or escape, as Data's mind so desperately tried to find one. He could not avoid his feelings for any longer. He approached the problem from a different angle to make sure the realization was not made in error. For instance, if he were a different person - if he had no latent romantic desires towards Lore – it might be reasonable then for him to support his brother's feelings and then do nothing about it. However, since that was not the case and given he had decided to at least consider a romantic relationship with Lore if he could be found to love a human, he had no choice but to reciprocate in some capacity, however subdued or uncertain. Was that not the logical option? Was honesty not considered one of the landmark policies among humans? He might do well to heed his own advice.

Thus, there was no reason for him to hide his feelings. Put another way, he had spent his life in pursuit of human experience so to avoid an attempt at rekindling a relationship when the opportunity arose might be considered denying his own nature – his own curiosity. Pain was a part of the human experience too, was it not?

Data's inclination towards rationality was quickly smothering the apprehension he was sensing towards Lore, towards the prospect of rekindling their relationship. It was hard for him to accept, but all thought processes, assumptions, and all semblance of humanity within him pushed him along that path. He had to take it.

_What other path can I take than that of a human?_

Data closed his eyes, attempting to reconcile all these thoughts together into a form appropriate for speech.

The silence seemed to grate on Lore's patience, however.

'Did you hear what I said, brother? I said –'

'I heard you,' Data said quickly, to ease Lore's mind and simultaneously silence the android. How could he possibly convey to Lore the entirety of his thought processes without delving into the intricacies of his emotions, the internal conflict he was experiencing? It would be too much to mention and would likely border on being incoherent. 'I was merely considering your proposal. It seems our struggles are not so different from one another.'

Lore nodded. He proceeded to swing his arms slowly back and forth by his sides. Perhaps he was trying to distract himself from some impulse.

Data forced his mind away from what those impulses might be, still busy gathering his thoughts to pursue idle considerations. After all, if his desires were true, considering what impulses Lore might be restraining would only serve to distract him from his task.

'You are correct, Lore. If we are to be on equal-footing with one another then I must support your endeavours, just as you should support mine,' Data said slowly. He gulped, feeling his throat tighten. He may not have to delay his confession until the reverse-transference procedure but he could certainly delay it several more minutes or hours. He felt that may be of benefit to him, and Lore surely could not argue with it. 'However, before we discuss what new form our relationship should take I would like some time to process our conversation. In the meantime, I would like to talk with you about other matters. For instance, we may discuss your loss of rank or I could tell you about my experience on the Betazoid ship. There is still time until we meet with the other Federation vessels and I would like some time to become acquainted with the events I have missed. I would be willing to extend that courtesy to you also, brother.'

Lore stopped swaying and his shoved his hands in his pockets. He seemed to be hiding a deep pleasure behind the sly smile that spread across his features.

In Data's eyes it seemed almost charming, but he made a mental note to examine that impression more closely along with his other feelings in the interim.

'If you like,' Lore said.

Lore walked behind pilot's chair and lay down on the floor on his back, resting his arms behind his head and staring at the blank ceiling. He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath of air, his chest rising. He exhaled, loudly.

'So, should I start or do you want to?'

'We may do the equivalent of tossing a coin,' Data said. 'I will run a quick random number sequence. If the starting number is even, I will start. If it is odd, you may.' Data's eyes scanned from side to side, performing the computation. He turned in the chair to stare down at Lore's resting form. 'It is even. I will tell you about my experiences on the Betazoid ship.'


	31. Reflections Pt2

'The first telepathic attempt that had succeeded involved thoughts about love,' Data said in a matter-of-fact way, hoping that the straight delivery would prevent arousing Lore's suspicion as he retold the events surrounding Engineer Sakei's circuit. But of course, the pairing of "love" and "Data" in the same sentence would arouse even a Vulcan's suspicion. This part of the story was the part he was worried about, the part where he conveyed indirectly and unambiguously to Lore that he still thought fondly upon some old memories, though perhaps with hints of bitterness. Recounting the conversations concerning equality in the android species with the fake Counselor Troi and Engineer Sekai had been interesting and provoking but of little personal consequence in comparison.

Lore opened an eye and raised the same eyebrow at Data, a large smile on his face at the mere mention of the word "love". He closed his eyes again to listen, perhaps satisfied with the uncertain perk of Data's brows and the embarrassed stare he gave him. There was no doubt that Lore was enjoying the experience, but he was not willing to say it – it would surely interrupt Data's train of thought more than it already was.

Yes, Data was embarrassed. He had hidden any outward semblance of romantic affection towards Lore sufficiently until that point, but now he was recounting the old memory he found it difficult to suppress the delicate tones in his voice and struggled to keep eye contact with Lore when his eyes flitted occasionally to appraise his expression.

'I remembered our time in the Jeffery Tube on the Selene many years ago, where we were meant to reconfigure isolinear chips in order to correct a replicator system malfunction. You had... distracted me,' Data explained, recollecting how Lore had pinned him playfully to the grid-floor in the crushing silence of the passageway and kissed him. He did not dare mention the kiss to Lore but the omission was only further reinforcement of his apprehension.

'In addition, I remembered having an conversation with you from ten years ago. You had suggested you were the only android I could ever love... I am sure you remember it clearly, brother.'

Lore chuckled, perhaps despite himself. 'Do you think it's true?'

'I – It is irrelevant, Lore,' Data said, reproachfully. He shuffled uncomfortably in his seat. 'It is irrelevant because I am reflecting upon the past, whereas "could ever" implies a probable future.'

He was dodging the question, he and Lore knew it. But Lore, to Data's surprise, continued to be patient. He did not directly address Data's discomfort, perhaps hoping he would address it in his own time later on.

'Both are of interest to me,' Lore continued, grinning at some private joke that would apparently stay private. He waved a hand in the air, stretching it out to obscure the lights on his face. 'Oh, I jest, brother. Please continue… I will try not to interrupt you.'

'Thank you,' Data said politely. Data was not yet willing to express the degree of his affection for Lore, no matter how much indirect evidence sept through the cracks in his resolve. But he could not hide it forever. The more time he spent explaining his experiences and the more Lore listened silently, the stronger his trust grew for the android. He felt a weight lift from his chest as he conveyed the love-triggered memories, but the burdens of sharing his experience were far from over.

'The next theme the Engineer Sekai wanted to explore was panic. Great fear, brother. I remembered catching a fish on the Holodeck once and reflecting upon its mortal terror as it flailed in my hands and died of suffocation. The next memory I recalled was…' He paused. He had not brought up this particular memory for some time, the memory of their break up. But the fear... Data had never discussed the extent of his fear with Lore before.

Perhaps this was an ideal opportunity to gauge the extent of Lore's change in character. Would he laugh in the face of his confession, treat it as an afterthought, get angry, or would he be concerned?

Data cleared his throat, his throat dry from an impressive change in biolubricant production. The source of the lack of biolubricant production, he gathered, was to match the anxiety that had began to wash over him. He felt his hairs stand on end and felt the Argo shrink around him. But within a few seconds of starting, the sensation reached a terrible peak - the Argo was smothering him and his body was screaming in protest as if it were about to explode into a thousand tiny fragments. But what threat was there? Why had it grown so quickly?

Data suddenly felt trapped within his own mind, his own body reacting with hostility to the mere thought of the memory. His hands clenched the arm rests to secure his body to the chair, least he was sucked out into space or suddenly vanished into thin air. He realized both were irrational acts, but the desire was there all the same. He closed his eyes, trying to grapple with some intangible emptiness in his mind to provide potential respite, but none came.

Data's hand clutched at his uniform, screwing his eyes shut even tigther. He tried to suppress the sensation of impending doom that was attacking him from all sides, as if the console of the Argo was about to come to life and the individual lights leap at him like spiders and burn his skin. As he focused on the sensation of impending doom, he inadvertently imagined he was back in space drifting endlessly through a chasmless void away from the Betazoid ship, threatening to swallow him on all sides but never taking the initiative, like a snake coiling to strike its prey but waiting for the ideal time to attack.

Lore - Lore - could - how could he recollect the memory for Lore like this? He had to try.

'The m-memory was p-panic,' Data repeated, stuttering despite his best efforts. 'I – The next memory I recalled was of the dissolution of our romantic relationship five years ago, Lore.' He gasped for breath, feeling as if he were about to lose his mind completely despite all rationality telling him it was impossible. One's mind vanishing was implausible, so why did he feel like it were?

His hands shook as he clenched the lilac Betazoid fabric, producing small tears at the v-neck line. With effort he tried to focus on the task at hand: telling Lore the story.

He searched desperately for possible words to describe to Lore the key moment when he had resisted his conditioning but found himself retreating only further inside his mind. But why was his resolve collapsing? He was meant to be fighting the fear – he vowed on that day that he would fight the fear- but why was it appearing now? What was he meant to fight? There was nothing, nothing at all!

Suddenly, there was a cool sensation on his shoulder. Lore was by his side, his hand on his shoulder. His forehead was creased with concern and confusion, Data had little time to examine his features, however - how could he? The empty void of space was threatening to suck him through the floor of the Argo and send him drifting into nothingness. He clenched the arm rest, his knuckles visible, to prevent himself from disappearing.

'B-Brother,' Data gasped. His eyes were wild as they darted to Lore, staring beyond him to horrors Lore could not see. How could he make him see!? How could he make the pain, the fear, disappear? Why had it gripped him so suddenly? His voice rasped and he choked with the effort of speech. 'Brother, help me!'

Lore's fingers clenched Data's shoulder firmly. He had gotten to his feet and was standing by Data's side. His voice was soft and slow, the only sound of stability and assurance in Data's panicked haze. 'This will pass shortly, dear brother. It won't hurt you. Try to relax, or you'll make it worse.'

Data's hands continued to shake and he keeled over in his chair, clutching his chest, panting. Why was there pain shooting through his chest? He had no beating heart to feel the stress of anxiety!

'It will pass, Data. Listen to my voice. Try to focus on me, okay, brother?'

Lore kneeled by him and gently held Data's arm. His breath brushed the side of his face. Data's gold eyes were wide as he watched him. How could he be so peaceful when death was staring Data in the face? Nonetheless, he tried to focus on Lore. It took every effort to do so, but he found his mind gradually made the image of space less prominent.

Minutes passed in tortured silence...

After several moments, Data's mind went blissfully numb and he felt the Argo returning to its normal dimensions. Relief washed over him. He felt no impulse to escape and he found he could look outside the window of the Argo without feeling lost in the depth of space – without seeing it as a threat about to scoop him up.

Data raised his head and sat up in his chair. Lore rose next to him. Instead of returning to the floor, Lore pulled Data's head to his chest and held it there, resting his hand on his cheek. Data breathed in the plain smell of the yellow jumpsuit. It made his mind spin, bringing him back to the Jeffery Tube five years ago. He closed his eyes gently, imaginging the two were back in the Jeffery Tube, free from the world's worries. He felt safe. He felt all the comfort of a child clinging to a stuffed bear after waking from a nightmare.

'See? Was that so hard? You did it, brother. It's over now.'

Emotional sobriety washing over him, Data dislodged his head from Lore's chest and stared up at the android. His expression was not mocking or irritated but concerned and calm. Aware of what he had just done, Data felt embarassed. How could he have lost control like that in Lore's presence? He had not displayed such vulnerability for a long time.

Data's eyes fell. 'I am sorry you had to see that, Lore.'

Lore shook his head, solemnly. 'No, I'm sorry for not noticing sooner.' Lore glanced out the window, crossing his arms. His tone betrayed him, he was not merely annoyed with himself, but ashamed. A dark cloud surrounded him, far outweighing any trace of embarrasment that Data had felt. Lore continued. 'After all, this isn't the first time you have experienced this kind of fear, is it? The day you dissolved our relationship was just one instance of it.' Lore suddenly slammed his fist down on the Argo's console and it let out an angry beep. 'I consider myself a fool for not noticing sooner.'

Data watched quietly, too stunned to comment. Lore turned and ran a hand through his hair.

'Do you want to continue the story, or do you want to take a break?' Lore asked. He turned away from Data. 'If you like I could tell you how I lost my job.'

'I would like to continue my story,' Data said softly. 'It is incomplete.'

Lore faced the cargo bay, cross armed and hunched over. Data was no empath but even he could recognize when somebody was brooding. Taking the silence as an indicator of encouragement, Data continued.

'The last memory concerning panic was of an Ensign being taken care of by Dr Crusher in sickbay on the Enterprise. Commander Riker had sent her into a cave during an away team and the event had triggered a panic attack,' Data explained.

He suddenly frowned. _Panic attacks._ Perhaps he had been experiencing panic attacks after all. It certainly explained their persistence over the years. It did not discount the fear he had felt in response to Lore's manipulation or behaviour but it was likely to have amplified it. And it explained the apparent lack of dangerous stimulus to trigger his current experience...

Lore returned to his place on the floor, catching Data's eye in the interim. The look on his face told Data that he was thinking the same thing he was. His expression was still filled with self-loathing, however.

Did he really feel so guilty over not realizing Data had been experiencing intense fear during intimate moments of their relationship, when Lore's influence had been strongest? Data had thought it had been obvious, but apparently it had not been so. He found himself wondering what Lore was thinking. He considered breaching the subject, but was uncertain if Lore wanted to discuss it.

Data explained the final moments with Sekai and how he had escaped from the starship. As he finished with being collected by the Argo, there was a long silence. Perhaps Lore was considering what it would look like for Data to be burned to pieces by a phaser and then put back together again. Perhaps he was consolidating Data's experience with how the Argo's tractor beam had picked up his hand and body.

Data was hopeful that Lore might explain how he lost his rank in Starfleet when Lore made an unexpected suggestion.

'Is the circuit still functional inside your neural net?'

'No, brother,' Data said, bewildered by the question. 'I do not think it needs to be. In addition, it is currently incomplete. Several key elements of the circuit are offline.'

Did Lore want him to feel his emotions and sense his thoughts, or was his question motivated by fear and selfish disinterest – a desire to keep secrets from Data - did he not want the circuit online? Given Lore's recent behaviour the latter seemed hard to believe, but the dark and distant expression on Lore's face did not exclude it as a possibility.

'Why do you ask?' Data ventured, uneasy by Lore's silence. He seemed consumed by some haunting memory. What had he done to lose his rank in Starfleet? Just what had occurred during Data's absence?

'I am not proud of what I have done,' Lore began. 'I thought maybe if the circuit was active… that you might find it easier to understand me… to _forgive_ me.'

The last few words were filled with such self loathing that Data was too stunned to respond. Guilt was not something he had seen Lore ever express readily.

'I assure you, Lore,' Data began, hoping to sound encouraging. 'Your present openness should be enough.'

'No- no,' Lore said urgently. 'Please. Let me take a look at the circuit. Let me try to activate it.' Lore clambered over to Data in the chair and hovered his fingers over the parietal plates of Data's neural net. 'Please, brother. You don't have to like what I did - just try to understand it. And you have nothing to fear with the circuit, you're familiar with it – I'll be completely vulnerable, you can look into my mind like I did with yours with the communication chip – it'll be like payback, right? I deserve it, don't I?' His hands shaking, he pressed his fingers on either side of Data's scalp and the plates popped open, folding downwards. 'We'll be doing Starfleet a favour, too, by figuring this out. You want to help Starfleet, don't you?'

'Lore…' Data murmured, his eyes focused on his brother's chest as he leaned over him, taken aback by his sudden madness. 'I have no qualms with you activating the chip but please realize that you do not have to do this.'

'Let me - let me do this,' Lore urged, again. Data could hear his fingers grasping with stray wires and circuits, working frantically. His voice lowered. 'I don't want you to think I've reverted back to the way I was.'

Data did not protest as Lore worked in his neural net, perhaps familiar enough with the Borg communication chip's organisation that this one's connectivity might not be completely obscure. Five minutes later, he stopped tweaking with Data's positronic network.

'Is that the right configuration?'

Lore took a step back, his wild eyes staring all over Data's face like he was searching for some sort of injury.

Data felt weary as he looked at Lore. What was he getting himself into? What was he going to sense from Lore when the chip was activated? Did he want to know the details of Lore's stripped rank with that much detail, with that much insight into Lore's mind?

Data wasn't sure if he wanted to know but he _was_ curious about Lore. He was curious how he had made the emotional journey from being an arrogant Captain to a the considerate and sensitive person standing before him. Maybe the memories would give him an idea as to how that had happened.

'Let me check,' Data mumbled. He closed his eyes, focusing on Lore's presence before him.

The sudden torrent of images, sounds, and sensations that filled his mind overwhelmed him.


	32. Reflections Pt3

_Once Data had made a telepathic connection with Lore, the flood of images and sensations were so rapid and vivid that Data quickly lost his connection with reality. His own consciousness became merged with another. But it was different that time… what he saw was not the string of images to form sentences or words but a dream-like progression of scenes. It felt like they had been passed through a feedback loop and altered with each new iteration, amplifying certain aspects and downplaying others._

_And thus, Data was no longer on the Argo…_

_He was Lore, on the Selene…_

Lore was standing in his quarters, Data standing before him. Lore's arms were shaking. The contractions pulsed up his arms and into his neck like waves engulfing the shore of a beach.

'When will you call me your brother, again, Data!?' he screamed, the force of the yell burning his throat.

_It hurts._

Lore picked up the broken glass fragments off the floor by his workstation. The corners of the glass pricked his palm. Blood specs appeared on his palm in a random configuration. Thick, hot blood.

_Blood!? Only a human bleeds…_

With disgust, Lore clenched harder on the glass fragments, hiding the injury. However, a trail of red seeped between his fingers.

_Make it stop._

Data took a step towards the door to Lore's quarters. Data's yellow eyes darted at Lore's hand, his pupils shrinking.

_You're not getting away that easily,_ Lore thought bitterly.

'Well?!' Lore demanded. 'Answer my question. When will you stop calling me your Captain and start calling me brother again?' He let the glass roll in his palm, fragments clinking against one another. 'Would Dr Soong want you to act this way, Data? Would our father be proud of the way you're acting towards me?! I deserve more than this!'

Data took a step backwards towards the door to Lore's quarters.

_Don't think you're going to leave so easily – don't think you're going to leave ME so easily! Don't just ignore me! Don't pretend I don't exist!_

'Captain, please calm down. You have had too much to drink. You are not thinking clearly,' Data urged.

_You little worm!_

'I'll be the one to decide when I've had too much to drink, Commander!' Lore yelled. 'And you still haven't answered my question!'

Lore threw the glass at Data's head, but Data did not duck. The glass fragments imbedded themselves in Data's face like darts on a dartboard. Translucent triangular and rectangular shards poked out on his forehead and on his cheeks. A deep red liquid seeped through the wounds.

Data held his hands up to his face. His fingers pressed down against his cheeks, avoiding the glass, assessing the wounds. Then, he tried to pull out of a piece of glass and a small green and black chip from his positronic network was removed with it. Tiny black drones wriggled in the wound, attempting to grasp the chip as it was tugged away and severed like a limb. They screeched with a high pitched ringing noise, like baby birds demanding food from their mother. It was the communication chip.

Suddenly, the lights in the room went red. There was a flash of light by Data's side. A dark-haired Betazoid man appeared in a lilac jumpsuit and grabbed Data's arm. He gave Lore a twisted grin and disappeared in another flash of light, taking Data with him.

_No! _

Lore sat down on his couch in defeat, his eyes wide and searching. He closed his eyes and pressed his head into his arms. Suddenly, his mind went numb and his shoulders shook with sudden emotion.

_It's my fault… _

He raised his head from the table. He was suddenly in Bar Nine, his arms sprawled against the wooden bench near the black replicator plates. Three empty glasses of polywater ale were sprawled against the plates, one of them broken. The thick scent of alcohol emanated from Lore, a large toxic aura around him. An aura of despair.

_It's my fault…_

'I am sorry… dear brother…' he murmured, speaking to the glass.

Lore shook his head and pressed his finger down into the replicator plates. A few shards of glass got caught into the end of his finger. Lore merely looked at them. Blood dripped out of the end of his finger like a broken faucet, landing onto the replicator plates.

_I deserve this pain._

Lore spoke to the glass, his words slurring together.

'Forgive your stoopid brother Lore for getting youu into this mess… I promise I'll make it up to you… somehow… one daye…'

His head dropped into his arms, his shoulders shaking with a laugh of helplessness and despair. After a few minutes of breathing in the leftover vapours of the ale, he heard the doors to Bar Nine hiss open.

Lore's eyes were red and tinged with wetness as he caught sight of Lieutenant Commander Tsar in the doorway.

'Get out of my sight, Tsar. You don't need to see your Captain drunk,' Lore said.

Lieutenant Commander Tsar, however, did something entirely unexpected. He sat down at the chair on Lore's right and stared at him.

'Your presence is not welcome, Lieutenant Commander,' Lore said smoothly, his lips twitching into a snarl.

Suddenly, there was a loud clap. Lore's fist met the side of Tsar's face. The android was thrown out of his seat. Lore got to hit feet, his centre of gravity wavering. His picked up his boot and pressed it into Tsar's head, Tsar's long locks of hair obscuring his face.

'If you apologize I might forgive you for what you saw tonight.'

'I will not apologize,' Tsar hissed into the floor. 'You're hiding something about Commander Data.'

_Of course I am. But that doesn't mean you have to know about it._

'Such a stubborn officer,' Lore scowled. He gave Tsar a mighty kick in the chest. The android crawled to his feet, his hand across his chest.

'You must be upset that the Commander is gone. Do you want to talk about it, Captain?'

'It is none of your business, Lieutenant Commander,' Lore muttered. 'I am returning to my quarters. Carry on with whatever you were doing.'

Lore began his intoxicated walk back to his quarters, his mind filling with images of Data. Lore's throat hurt as he imagined Data by his side, walking with him.

'I do not believe I could forgive you for what you did to me,' Data said, his voice barely louder than a whisper. 'I was not responsible for my kidnapping.'

'You're right,' Lore muttered. His voice cracked. 'I am.'

Lore's legs suddenly shook and his head spun. He keeled over onto the floor and vomited in the hallway, the intoxication overwhelming his neural circuits. Biofluids contaminated with polywater were ejected from his system and burned his throat and mouth. Lore spat the remaining amber-coloured liquid from his mouth, a long trail of saliva dribbling from his parted lips.

Panting, Lore staggered to his feet, glancing around.

Commander Data was gone.

Lore was half unconscious as he tried to take several more steps, but his body was shaking with the strain of the polywater on his neural net. His conscious awareness kept flitting in and out like a strobe light. Each time the light reappeared, the frosted corridors of the Selene seemed darker than normal. Indeed, they were getting darker. Lore's head continued to spin and his boots felt uneven on the floor, like he was walking on a water-boat. Suddenly, the corridor spun upside-down. Lore's gold eyes rolled into the back of his head, darkness consuming him.

He collapsed in a heap on the ground.

* * *

><p>Lore woke and immediately absorbed his surroundings with an air of disbelief. The mattress was twenty percent firmer than his. He was not in his quarters, but Commander Data's.<p>

He sat on the side of the bed, his hands flattening the dark blue bedsheets. Data's dark blue bedsheets. Gulping, Lore pulled on his boots and got to his feet, immediately working to make sure the bed was neat. Lore fluffed the pillow and placed it precariously on a forty five degree angle, resting simultaneously on the mattress and the back-board.

_Get out... quickly...  
><em>

As Lore exited Data's bedroom, his eyes landed on the violin on the table. His lips curled, feeling a strong desire to touch the instrument.

Lore's fingers picked up the instrument and placed it under his chin. He sighed deeply, imagining Data playing it before the window. He thought of all the times they had spent together, the many recitals Data had played for him once. And now? He heard recitals from a bitter distance.

He plucked the bow off the table and dragged the horsetails across the strings, his fingers pressing down on them to change the note. He closed his eyes.

_A bitter distance because of you! It'll be your fault if he never plays again!_

A nervous smile crossed his face.

Lore carefully placed the violin back onto the table into the exact position it had been originally. But as he did, he felt a burning impulse to play the violin again. He shoved his hands in his pockets.

_What are you doing? First you get the android kidnapped and now you're snooping in his quarters!? What kind of wretch are you!? How did Data ever trust someone like you? What kind of Captain are you?!_

Lore frowned.

_To think I once enjoyed this. _

Lore tripped over his feet as he left Data's quarters, an air of guilt following him like a guard dog.

Lore suddenly found himself in engineering as if Data's quarters lead straight to it. The warp coils hummed angrily at him like a hive of wasps. The engineer Lars was clutching his face by a semi-lit console, his eyes wide in horror. His hand suddenly fell from his face and right cheek twitched.

'Are you ignoring me now? What other sounds did you reroute to your motor system?' Lore demanded._ This is such a waste of time!_ 'Are you hearing her voice? Does she comfort you? Does she protect you from the voice of reason? Stop being such a coward and face reality, you foolish metal lump! It is interfering with your duties on this ship!'

Lars's palm clutched the right side of his face, his eyes falling to look at Lore's red Starfleet uniform.

_Just as pathetic as when I first saw you. To think we share the same programming! You're Data's bastard, not mine! You're just getting in the way! You're just getting between us!_

'Don't try to hide it from me, Lars. You can't hide from me,' Lore began, twisting Lars's wrist in his grasp and pulling it away from his face. Lars's yellow eyes darted at Lore's hand in surprise. With an impressive wrench, Lars's wrist emitted sparks and exploded. Lore was suddenly holding Lars's broken wrist in his hand.

Lore's face went paler than usual as he saw blood drip from the wound - from the wires as if they were blood vessels. Lars's clutched his broken arm and fell to his knees. The high pitched screaming from the reparative drones appeared, louder than ever.

_No! I didn't mean it! I'm sorry! I agreed to be your legal guardian - you're my responsibility, too! This is my fault! Damn it, why can't I do anything right?!_

Lore rushed to Lars's side and tried to push the dismembered hand against the broken arm so the drones would take it like hungry parasitic worms. As he released his grip on the hand he stared at Lars's hair. The resemblance to Data was striking.

_Data…_

Lore's fingers absentmindedly curled around Lars's hair. It felt like Data's hair, too. He felt compelled to touch Lars's face and embrace the android, but as he did he felt his stomach tie into several tightly wound knots.

_Lars is my son! What kind of …_

He retracted his hand.

_Am I so obsessed with Data that I have to see him everywhere!? That I have to be near the things he touches, the things that look like him? What is wrong with me!?_

Lars's raised his head to look at Lore, his face distraught.

'Don't torment me, Captain!' he said, suddenly. Lore's jaw slackened.

_What am I doing to my crew?_

Lore looked at his hands and recognized that they were covered in blood. Lars's blood. Lore ran from engineering as fast as his legs could take him.

'_Don't torment me!'_

In his mind, it was not Lars saying those words but Data. Data was saying "Don't torment me, Captain!" It was Data. Everywhere. He could not escape. Why!? Oh, god, why!? Was this the price he paid for loving somebody? Was he so obsessed!?

_Yes, I am._

He felt pain in his hands and looked at them during his sprint. Shards of glass were embedded in his hands. The sharp pain made him feel like he was being stabbed with daggers, not glass.

_Was this humanity?  
><em>

'Don't torment me, Captain!' He saw Data's face, embedded with glass.

Lore tugged pieces of glass out of his hands, but he heard glass crack beneath his feet each time he removed a piece, as if they were reappearing there. Looking at the floor he noticed he was running barefoot, and each step he took, shards of glass became more deeply embedded in his feet. The pain shot up through his legs and into his hips. His Starfleet uniform was now gone and he was running in the yellow jumpsuit.

_Is this my payment, Data? How much longer will you haunt me!? _

Lore suddenly tripped into the turbolift, his toes getting caught on the gap between the corridor and the lift. But instead of falling on the smooth floor of the turbolift, he fell instead onto a white marble floor with a resounding crack.

Raising his head, he realized he was in the Soong Institute of Technology outside Dr Maddox's lab. Near him were blue and green ferns.

He saw black boots before him. Following the legs they were attached to, he saw a yellow Starfleet uniform.

Brent was holding a phaser above him, pointing it at the side of his head.

'If you don't bring Rin back to life, I'll blow your brain to pieces,' Brent snarled.

Lore glanced around the floor. There was nobody in sight, not even security guards guarding the large doors.

'I don't want Starfleet chasing after me, so you'll have to find somebody else,' Lore replied.

'There is nobody else,' Brent said, through grit teeth. 'So get moving.'

Brent jerked the phaser to something behind Lore. Lore was suddenly in the black marble transference laboratory as if they had teleported. With a loud whirring noise, a body was transported out of one of the transference tubes into the room. Rin, the android. Rin snatched the phaser out of Brent's hand.

Lore watched with horror as Brent's head melted before his eyes, being sliced down the middle like a Christmas turkey. The screeching from the drones were louder than he had ever heard them as they burst from the wounds like tumours. Lore clutched his hands over his ears to try and stifle the sound, but it continued to ring. The purple phaser blasts burned into the back of his retinas.

In the final act, Rin shot herself in the head. It was all over so quickly.

Lore was standing before two lifeless androids.

_If I had taken better care of my crew this wouldn't have happened._

Lore stepped towards Brent's body, examining the wound. He pushed his fingers into the center of Brent's chest and his body fell flat against his back.

With impressive animation, a black case enclosed around Brent's fallen and broken body, the sides of the case growing out of the floor like some kind of machine. It shielded his body from view. The black marble walls closed on them. Rin was sucked into the approaching black wall like it was a liquid, but it congealed again as she disappeared into its mass.

Lore glanced around. He recognized a desk and painting of glial neurons on the wall.

He was in Dr Maddox's administration office. Lore kneeled before the large black container.

Lore lifted the lid to the black container and smelt rotting flesh. It was not Brent's flesh, however, but human flesh. It was Data.

Half the human's head was missing as if it had been carved out like a Halloween pumpkin. There were white-yellow lumps of fat attached to portions of the visible muscle of the face like in the cheek. Neural fibres and flaking meninges stuck out the right side of the missing skull in an uneven pattern.

The brown hairs on its head had grown unevenly. Its only visible eye was half open. It was bloodshot and had an unnatural yellow hue to the sclera that made it look infected. The iris was blue, but even the iris was incomplete – one half of the pigment was the same sickly yellow colour as the iris. The body's lips were a faint pink, slightly open, and small bubbles had emanated from the lips as Lore had disturbed the container.

Lore's hands trembled on the side of the container. Applying too much weight to the thing, the container tipped on its side and the organic chemical cocktail flowed out of the container and stained Lore's yellow jumpsuit. The smell made Lore dizzy, it was pungent.

The human's naked body flopped over onto its side and Lore felt the flabby pasty mass on the backs of his hands.

Alarmed at having disturbed the flesh, he wrapped his arms around the body and rolled it so it was facing upwards again. He held the body in his arms, not sure what to do with it. Would it break if he tried to put it back in the container?

Lore held his breath and stared at the ceiling. He could barely stand to look at the body, let alone touch or smell it! It felt slimy.

_Get a grip on yourself, Lore! It's Data... Your brother._

One of Lore's shaking hands cupped the human's half-present face and gazed upon the blue-iris. He could have sworn he saw something stir in the pupils, but it could have been his moving reflection.

Suddenly, the eyeball moved and focused on Lore's face.

Lore nearly dropped the body, but he restrained himself from that impulse fearful that the body would break or fall apart if he dropped it. Human bodies were fragile after all.

Lore's eyes scanned the human's face. Lore could hear a soft inhalation coming from the thing's lungs, and they rattled gently like wind chimes. Was it meant to be breathing? Something didn't sound right.

'Data?' Lore whispered.

Struggling to keep composure, for the body was the most disgusting thing he had ever seen, he tried to remember that this was his brother. The most important thing was that his brother wasn't dead. _This_ was his dear brother Data. Dr Soong wouldn't want him to run, he would want him to support him. And Lore did want to support him, in whatever capacity he was capable of. He owed him that much, at least.

'You're alive…' Lore breathed. He bit his lower lip. 'I thought you were dead.'

Lore's eyes stared wildly at the body, at Data. Yes, this was Data. He watched as tiny white fibres wiggles violently on the body's head, skin, slowly regenerating the skin with the speed of a replicator. The blue eye – now eyes - were no longer tinted with yellow infection but were clear. Blood vessels made the human's pale flesh pink under the cheeks and neck.

Lore's hand pressed more firmly against Data's cheek. He could feel a pulse underneath.

The human blinked and stared up at Lore. Its lips closed. The body was limp, still regenerating, and still weak. Lore sighed, staring helplessly at the thing – Data.

_Do you even know who I am? _

Lore frowned, his stare turning southwards. The skin that had been patchy with redness was being covered with skin. The body was getting warmer, gradually reaching the human-comfortable temperature of 36.7 degrees Celcius.

Data suddenly opened his mouth to speak, but it said nothing. Lore saw something he recognized in the thing – its face was contorted in a familiar quizzical expression. He could see the beginnings of recognition in Data's eyes.

Lore rest the human on the floor and kneeled before it, scrutinising its face. The human was staring at Lore.

'I'll show you who I am, if you've forgotten,' Lore promised Data. His thumb pressed gently against the human's lower lip, feeling the blood rush to the flesh in reflex. A pulse chugged underneath his finger.

_That's going to take awhile to get used to…_ Lore thought. _But I'll get used to it…_

He stared fondly at the human. Now that he could see his brother inside the casing coming alive, the body didn't seem so disgusting.

_I'll protect you._

Lore lowered his lips to the human's forehead and kept the contact for several seconds longer than necessary. He ran his hand through Data's damp hair, raising his head.

'I promise to take care of you. If you've forgotten anything, I'll help you remember,' Lore stared at the human's quizzical face and smiled gently. 'It's the least I can do for my dear brother.'

* * *

><p><em>AN: I'm not sure how obvious it was to you but some segments were copy-pasted from earlier chapters and shortened/altered._


	33. Death's Embrace

Data blinked several times as he became disconnected from Lore, his eyebrows raising in surprise. The dream-like imagery lingered in his neural net but was steadily being pushed into his unconsciousness. The real world was beginning to feel more and more solid.

'Curious,' Data muttered. He raised his eyes to look at Lore. 'I received some very vivid impressions, brother.'

'What kind of impressions?' Lore asked.

As Data explained precisely what he had seen, Lore occasionally made a disgruntled sound and commented on each scene- providing more details when requested on what sections were real and which were not. Lore's face went blank when Data described the ending scene involving tipping over the human body.

'That didn't really happen,' Lore said quickly. 'In reality I left the body in the case.'

'Am I correct in assuming that your current feelings on the matter were integrated with the memory?' Data queried.

Lore nodded silently. Data suddenly sensed a sensory substance emanating from Lore, a type of aura. Focusing on it more closely, he remembered the vision of Lore kissing his human forehead, vowing to protect him.

_From that vision I can assume that you would certainly try to love me as a human, Lore. I can assume that my prior uncertainties regarding your resolve were misguided.  
><em>

Data frowned, suddenly feeling Lore's emotions morph into something more intimate. Data gulped and mentally retracted himself from Lore, attempting to silence the empathic ability. This was a part of the circuit he had not fully explored with Sekai, but it seemed fully functional and available to him now.

Was it possible Lore had a better understanding of the circuit than Sekai ever did? He had all the knowledge of a cyberneticist but with a specialisation in Borg circuits – namely the telepathic and empathic abilities the Borg communication chip provided. It was not so implausible that Lore would make sense of the circuit or at least gather what connections were missing.

Data got to his feet and scanned the console, pressing a few buttons to bring up the estimated time of arrival to their location. There was still an hour left until they arrived.

'Lore,' Data began. 'Based on your examination of the circuit, were you able to gather what kind of range this telepathic circuit has?'

'Not without looking at the code. Circuits don't say much on their own,' Lore said. He sat down in one of the adjacent pilot chairs and rest his elbows on his thighs, resting his chin on his hands. 'Do you have internal access to it?'

Data's eyes glazed over and they scanned from left to right in quick succession. 'I do, brother. However, it has restricted access. I should be able to find the password given enough time.'

'Try it,' Lore suggested. 'If we're in range there's a chance we might be able to contact one of the Federation ships.'

Twenty minutes passed with Data's eyes darting across his visual field in a near-random sequence of vectors – horizontal, vertical, and rotational movements – as he attempted to break the restrictions holding the telepathic circuit hostage. There were several layers to the code, similar to the restrictions Lore placed on the communication chip code. Once he reached the final layer, the code Sekai had programmed into him reappeared and he suddenly became distracted by a warmth in his stomach that glowed like a lamp. His eyes stopped darting around the room and stared at Lore.

His face softened.

'We have nearly completed our mission, brother,' he said, smiling. 'We may share this circuit with the Federation.'

'Yes, yes,' Lore grumbled, eyeing Data. 'So, have you cracked the code?'

'Not yet,' Data began. He felt words spilling out of his mouth like he had no control over them, but no panic arose to combat the sensations – no resistance came to save him - things were different this time. After all, had he not been contemplating their relationship not long ago? Had they not become closer during the trip? Fear of manipulation had since trickled away... and he was left defenseless.

Data smiled faintly, the code rattling his neural net.

* * *

><p>Five more minutes passed in silence.<p>

'I am beginning to think it may not be necessary to access the code,' Data began, breaking the silence abruptly and with unusual enthusiasm. 'After all, we are very close to the Federation ships. They will be able to find us without telepathic contact. I suspect they are in no danger. The Betazoid and Federation ships have been cooperating, after all.'

'What?' Lore demanded. Wasn't he just trying to crack the code? 'What the hell are you talking about!? Nobody's cooperating with anybody!'

Lore got out of his chair and grasped Data's face, squeezing his cheeks. With several jerky motions he turned Data's head from side to side, examining his reflexes. Data's head moved without resistance but his eyes were still moving from side to side as if he were continuing to decipher the code.

'I must not tamper with the code, brother,' Data continued. 'It-'

'It has a security lock on you, that's what the code is doing,' Lore snapped. He released his hold on Data's face and scowled. 'There's no telling what it will do if I override it. What if there is some kind of malware inside? It could ruin your circuits.' Lore's face suddenly fell. 'What if the code sent out a signal to alert the Betazoid of your presence?'

'That is possible,' Data began. 'After all, it would assist the Betazoid ship in finding us.'

_Yeah,_ Lore thought bitterly,_ and that's exactly what we don't want._

Suddenly, the console beeped loudly. Lore examined the console, his heart sinking at the message, and looked out the window expectantly. A vessel had been detected in the area and was approaching at warp speed. He wished it were the Enterprise or Selene, but given his conversation with Data he suspected the worst.

A large beat-up purple transport ship appeared several kilometres before them, almost completely obscuring their view of surrounding space. Lore fell back in his chair.

'Oh, god damn it,' Lore breathed.

Lore's eyes were wide with fear as he turned to stare at Data whose eyes were continuing to move side to side.

_If only I had the patience to wait until we got to our destination... _Lore thought, bitterly._ I should know better than to tamper with enemy technology until we were in a safe location._

Suddenly, a flash of light appeared through the window and a loud explosion reached their ears. The Argo shook noisily. Lore gripped onto the armrest of his chair.

The console let out a series of beeps and blips as the Argo received a hail.

'Ugh,' Lore said. 'Computer, audio only.'

The shuttlecraft did not have the ability to maintain a video link, so audio would have to do. The speakers on either side of Lore embedded in the ship's walls crackled and fizzled with static. Then, a voice appeared through the noise.

'Allow us to take you two androids into custody for stealing intellectual property,' the Betazoid began. 'Or we will fire upon your ship.'

'Stealing intellectual property?' Lore repeated, hoping to delay any conflict, but irritation overwhelming him. 'That's the most bullshit I've heard all day.'

The Argo shook from another preliminary phaser blast. Lore clenched his jaw.

Lore knew the small blasts were only a fraction of what they could do. After all, the altered Betazoid transport ship easily had the capacity to blow them to smitherenes, but Lore could see no reasonable exit from this "diplomatic" situation. If they went with the Betazoid they would probably be killed, but if they stayed in the ship they would probably be killed. It was an unfortunate catch-22. Lore grit his teeth together until his jaw hurt.

How could he stall until the Enterprise and Selene arrived? What had happened to them? They should have been in pursuit of the ship, yet they were nowhere to be seen. Had Romulans gotten to them?

_Well, if I'm going to die I'm going to do it in style._

Lore slapped his fingers on the console, turning the ship around. He engaged warp drive on a random vector and the Argo suddenly shot out of view of the transport ship.

_Eat shuttlecraft dust, jerks._

'They'll have us on an intercept course,' Lore muttered to Data, all too aware that they were in mortal peril and the escape would only serve to delay their demise. He tried to think of ways to escape. The Argo was not equipped with escape pods to create a possible diversion, so how could they leave and perhaps trick the Betazoid into thinking they were still on the ship?

Suddenly, Lore had an idea.

Dragging a semi-hypnotized Data to the cargo bay, he opened the doors to the Argo's terrain buggy and pushed Data inside. The android shuffled unceremoniously to the passenger seat while Lore pressed a button on the wall of the cargo bay and timed an opening and closing door sequence.

_Beeeeep._

Once it had initiated there was a rumble and the large-entrance to the cargo bay slid open to reveal raw space, white dots speeding past at warp five. Lore jumped into the driver's seat of the dune buggy and input a remote command to the Argo to change destination vectors every few minutes in a random sequence starting from when the buggy exited the shuttlecraft.

Lore glanced down at the seat belt but thought better of it. The ride would be rough enough without one.

Lore switched gear into reverse and slammed his foot on the accelerate pedal of the Argo buggy. The buggy's large off-terrain wheels screeched across the cargo bay. With a short zapping noise the force field to the outside engulfed them and then they were floating in space as down an invisible road.

The Argo shuttlecraft changed course five seconds later, the doors to the cargo bay closing in front of them.

The buggy was adrift in space, alone in the black expanse.

Lore glanced over to Data. The android seemed to have become catatonic. Data was not reacting like he had earlier to the prospect of drifting in space. He had been overwhelmed with fear. Instead, now his eyes continuing to do a nystagmus-like dance as his neural net was caught in the code sequence. He seemed to be in a daze. The code was effective, Lore had no doubt of it now. No wonder the Betazoid ship had appeared so quickly.

Was the Betazoid ship about to appear?

Lore floated out of the driver's seat and gripped onto the sides of the vehicle. Using his arms, he pushed for propulsion over to the rear phaser-cannon. Orienting the weapon upwards, he examined space for the Betazoid transport ship, waiting for several minutes. Seeing nothing, Lore sighed in momentary relief.

The Betazoid ship was nowhere in sight. Perhaps Lore's plan had worked.

It would take them a few minutes to realize where they had gone.

'You know, Data,' Lore muttered to the front of the vehicle. 'If you were human, you'd be dead right now.' He paused, remembering that the telepathic circuit was still active in his positronic brain. 'In addition, if we keep that telepathy program active any longer, we'll be found out sooner.'

Lore returned to the front of the buggy and floated by Data's seat, pulling the android's head towards him. Not much force was required, Data's head followed his hands gracefully, his body half floating out of his seat. Lore opened Data's head plates and revealed the positronic network underneath, the circuit Sekai had devised shoved clumsily under the plates. The circuit connecting several key chips by long wires floated immediately free like an ocean net in water.

Lore tugged several of the wires out of the circuit and then shoved the chips back into Data's head, closing it. He knew enough about the circuit to realize disconnecting those wires would deactivate it, but had it been deactivated long enough to avoid detection? He could not be sure.

Data's hands suddenly reached towards his scalp as if he were searching to brush away a mosquito. Feeling nothing, Data lowered his hands into his lap. Data turned to Lore, his face expressionless. Lore was busy strapping himself into the driver's seat. Lore smiled faintly at him. Data's eyes were no longer in a scanning iteration but were focused on Lore, his pupils small.

'Are we going to die, brother?' Data asked, weakly. His gaze lowered to Lore's hands. 'In a brief moment, I could only sense the Betazoid on the transport ship with the telepathic chip. I could sense no androids or other humanoids in the vicinity. Therefore, the other Federation ships may not be nearby. I find it doubtful we could safetly escape if the Betazoid found us again.'

Lore reached out to Data's hand and grasped it with a firm grip. Lore's gaze was filled with uncertainty.

'I don't know,' Lore said softly. He stared out the open windows, the icy chill of space a cold reminder of the futility of their escape. 'But if we do die,' Lore continued, 'there's nobody else I'd rather do it with.'

Data did not smile. He did break eye contact again, however, his lips parting.

If the Betazoid found them, they would probably die. If they didn't… would the Enterprise realize that the Argo buggy was missing from the bay?

_They must know… They must be looking for us…_ Lore thought. His left cheek twitched. _They must be looking for Commander Data, anyway._

Data used his other hand to grasp Lore's, bowing his head. Data's hands were cold. He seemed to be doing his best not to look outside the buggy's glass-less windows. His back softly hit the ceiling of the small buggy, zero-g preventing him from holding position in his seat since he had neglected to strap himself in.

Was he fighting that internal panic again?

Lore wrapped his other hand around Data's, a frown across his face.

'No need to be afraid,' Lore said gently, patting Data's hand. His own voice was filled with uncertainty, so he wasn't sure how much of a comfort he was. Lore forced a smile on his face, trying to lighten Data's spirits. 'Your dear brother Lore is here to keep you company.'

Data's eyes opened and stared at Lore's. Lore's smile grew wider and he patted the side of Data's face.

'Attaboy,' he grinned, weakly.

'Lore,' Data began, his voice a mere croak. He straightened his back and released his hands from Lore's, grabbing the headrest and using it to manoevre himself back in the seat, strapping the seat belt across his hips and clicking it together, tightening the straps with a firm tug. Data glanced at Lore, traces of amusement in his eyes. 'I do not appreciate you treating me like a child.'

'Well, aren't you hard to please!' Lore teased, smirking suddenly. 'And here I thought everybody on the Enterprise treated you that way – Mr. Data, the innocent android... to think you wanted to go back there! You know, we don't have to be rescued you know,' Lore continued, his joking nature getting the better of him. 'We could stay out here and drift in space. We could be together forever!' Lore laughed, but the laugh had heavy traces of bitterness in it. He shook his head. 'To think I ever thought living together on some desolate planet was a good idea… If it's anything like this…'

Lore became silent, brooding as he began to ran the buggy's scanner.

It detected nothing. Perhaps not surprising considering they were nowhere.

'If I am honest with you, Lore,' Data began, but he faltered, lowering his gaze to the forward window and staring into space. 'Uh…' He gulped. 'Brother, I…'

He stopped, but Lore's ears pricked at the tone in his voice. It sounded like he was about to say something heartfelt, like a confession of sorts... Was Data about to say what he thought he was? After all, they were probably going to die in space. This was probably going to be one of their last moments together. If there was any time for a confession it was near death, no?

But before Data could continue, there was a loud whooshing sound to their left. Spinning around, Lore's heart sank at the sight of the purple transport vessel. He recognized the array of phaser-cannons along the lateral side of the ship and watched as the weapons locked onto the buggy. The traces of a purple beam were visible inside them.

_Shit…_ Lore thought, his visual field narrowing and refusing to focus on anything other than the phaser-cannons pointing right at them. _We're done for._

Suddenly, Lore felt Data's hands grappling around Lore's waist to unclip his seatbelt. With a soft click, Data's hands dug into Lore's sides. Lore bumped his head on the roof of the buggy, his body not easily manoevered in the cramped vehicle.

'Wait – what are you-?' Lore stammered to Data, but Data's head drifted by his own as he shoved Lore out of the buggy through the right lateral window.

Lore floated free in space, drifting slowly away from the buggy. Lore's eyes scanned through the buggy's windows and saw the transport ship located on the opposite side. Had they been seen escaping? They couldn't go far now. They were done for. Who cares if they were out of the buggy? Where could they go? Absolutely nowhere! The Betazoid would find them once the buggy was blown up and then they would be cannon fodder. That was assuming they'd survive the blast of the buggy exploding which was unlikely. Lore was still close to it and at his current speed he wouldn't be able to float away far enough to avoid the blast.

Glimmers of purple light were building and getting brighter in the phaser cannons of the large purple transport vessel before them, charging a phaser blast. Lore's eyes widened.

They were running out of time to make distance with the ship. The Betazoid would fire in any moment! He and Data would be caught in the blast!

_... Data!?_

Lore's eyes darted to the buggy. Data had pushed off the side of the buggy from around the rear, holding a dislocated high-powered phaser gun in his hand. He must have dismantled it from the rear of the buggy. Data floated towards Lore on a strange angle.

Lore struggled to rotate himself in space and reached for the android drifting towards him through the void. He grasped at Data's uniform, tugging it towards him as Data took aim at the shuttlecraft, the weapon steady in his hands. As Lore bumped into Data, Lore wrapped his arms around Data's chest and clung there like a stick insect to a branch.

Data carefully adjusted the direction of the nose of the laser.

'Hold on tight, brother,' Data said, 'This may be a rough ride.'

Lore pressed his arms deeper into Data's sides.

Data pulled the trigger.

A large, bright pink laser blasted out the end of the dismantled weapon and exploded against the side of the buggy. Lore and Data shot backwards, gaining speed as the laser continued to bombard the side of the buggy, eventually penetrating the first wall and hitting the other side. The buggy was getting smaller and smaller before them, and they were gaining more and more speed away from it. After a few seconds, the weapon ceased the laser pulse and Data cursed under his breath.

There was a loud piercing ringing sound from the transport vessel as the ship fired.

In the brief seconds before the lasers made contact, bright purple lights illuminating their faces and near-blinding them, Data dislodged one of his hands from the high-power phaser gun and wrapped it around Lore, his palm pressing into Lore's shoulder. The two androids were silent as they drifted away, quietly bracing for the impact that was only milliseconds away. Their death that was only milliseconds away.

Ten large and powerful purple phaser cannon blasts descended and all joined at a single point in space – the Argo buggy.

The vehicle exploded with a deafening roar. The fiery blast expanded and rushed towards the two androids at a quickening pace, hungry to consume them.

* * *

><p><em>AN: I love this chapter too much (mainly the second part, though). Just imagine some of those scenes, especially the last one on the big-screen, Nemesis style!_


	34. Damage Control

Admiral Riker was fuming in his First Officer's chair. He was glaring at the Selene's viewscreen where a Romulan officer, Commander Tomalak, had a single eyebrow raised at Commander Shelby who seemed to be engaging him in a staring contest.

Riker never liked the Romulans. The Romulans had a current hold on the Defiant, Selene, and Enterprise with a series of six warbird's tractor beams – two per ship. It was decidedly suspicious. They had been kept there for hours, with no word from the Romulans except a passing message from Commander Tomalak through a disrupted haze of antilepton particles that they were assisting the Betazoid in some kind of medical procedure and requested privacy for 'cultural sensitivites'.

There was no doubt that the Betazoid and Romulan had been involved with some kind of interaction but the antilepton particles had prevented them from discerning exactly what. If there had been an experimental circuit developed, could the Romulans have acquired it?

After seven hours, the antilepton particles dissipated and Commander Tomalak opened a channel to the Selene.

'I apologize for the delay in contacting you, Captain. I assure you, we meant no ill harm,' Commander Tomalak told Captain Shelby smoothly. He smiled curtly. 'As a part of our business agreement the Betazoid requested medical assistance. We had to uphold our part of the agreement in the interests of maintaining our alliance with the Federation.'

'Are you aware that the Betazoid ship may be holding one of our Federation officers captive?' Captain Shelby asked, her voice becoming louder. 'Are you aware that the Betazoid in question are currently fugitives in the Federation? We are seeking their arrest.'

'I was not aware of either fact. Concerning your missing officer, our sensors detected no non-Betazoid humanoids on their ship, in the surrounding area, nor outside the Neutral zone,' Tomalak said, shrugging his shoulders as if the misunderstanding was of little concern. 'Concerning the people you claim are fugitives, the Betazoid are a peaceful race. They claimed to be seeking defences to develop a circuit for the Federation without interference – the technology of which would be highly valuable to the Federation. Our inclination to assist was merely a token of good will in exchange for a copy of the technology. We believed a sharing of technologies would be in the best interests of our alliance. We merely had to assure their security from other assailing ships.'

_So they have the technology after all,_ Riker thought.

Captain Shelby gave the Romulan the most pleasant smile she could muster, though her eyes were cold. 'I apologize that you were misinformed, Commander. Our Federation officer, Commander Data, is an android. You would not have been able to detect him with typical methods.'

Commander Tomalak frowned in mock-concern. 'Well, I apologize. I hope you find your Starfleet officer in good health.'

'How do you explain the tractor beams and antilepton particles?' Captain Shelby asked, suddenly. 'It may be interpreted as a hostile act towards the Federation.'

'Hostile?' Commander Tomalak frowned, looking concerned. 'Did we fire upon your ships, Captain? Have we made any threats to you or your crew?'

'No, but-'

'Then we are not being hostile,' the Romulan stated. 'We merely wished to protect the Betazoid from harm. Their ship had been damaged and we were close by. We had to ensure that their medical concerns were addressed with the privacy required by Betazoid traditions.'

'But –' Captain Shelby began. 'But with all due respect, Commander Tomalak, _they are enemies of the Federation! _You should not have let them escape without first consulting us.'

'I apologize, we were not informed,' Commander Tomalak said stiffly. 'And until I can confirm this story I will continue to hold your vessels with my fleet's tractor beams until the Betazoid have safetly returned to Federation space. Then you may do as you wish with them.'

'And the Betazoid you took on board?'

'If they are fugitives, I am sure your Federation will be quick to apprehend them. They have been returned to the ship.'

'Indeed, we will apprehend them,' Captain Shelby said, biting on her tongue. She raised her chin. 'Please do not delay to release our ships once the Betazoid are in Federation space.'

'Of course.'

Captain Shelby spun around to face Riker her eyes wide with frustration. She eyed Tsar by tactical and made a slicing motion with her hand to mute the audio. Commander Tomalak communicated with his own bridge officers in the meantime.

'I find it hard to believe Commander Tomalak's claims of ignorance, don't you?' Captain Shelby said to Admiral Riker, huffing. 'But we have no evidence to suggest that he's lying, except perhaps for the use of antileptons which is only superficial evidence at best. Antileptons are being used more and more by Romulan ships during meetings to maintain privacy so their use of the particles need not be interpreted as a hostile act. Besides, information about _who_ we were looking for – our key suspect - only arose less than twenty four hours ago. It is plausible that he truly was ignorant about the Betazoid resistance.'

Admiral Riker nodded. 'I agree, though I share your suspicions. However, we have no evidence. We may as well do as he says since he seems willing to cooperate with us. He is right – the Romulans have not acted in hostile way towards us, although the delay was unfortunate,' Riker stared at the back of Lars's and Veneer's heads at operations and the helm. 'Also, if Commander Data is not on the Betazoid ship, there is no guarantee the Betazoid know where Data is or they may have recollected him by now. But that's assuming he wasn't disintegrated by them…' Riker eyes darkened, not wishing to consider what would happen if Commander Data was dead. 'If he is in space, however, we outnumber the Betazoid. Once they are out of the Neutral Zone at least we would be playing on _our_ turf. We should be able to intercept them before they go too far.'

Captain Shelby nodded and turned back to the screen.

'Recommence transmission.'

Their audio was unmuted.

Commander Tomalak beamed and made a short waving motion with two fingers to his other officers.

'Welcome back, Captain Shelby. Our sensors detect the Betazoid ship has returned to Federation space so I have told our ships to release their hold on the Enterprise and Defiant,' Commander Tomalak said. He smiled broadly and adjusted his posture in his chair. There was an arrogance to it Riker didn't like, but he could do nothing about it. 'You are welcome to leave the Neutral zone when you wish. I hope this issue concerning the Betazoid is resolved promptly. I would help, however… to travel into Federation space would be unwise, don't you agree?'

'Yes,' Captain Shelby said through grit teeth. She smiled curtly. 'Thank you, Commander.'

The viewscreen of the Romulan ship was replaced with that of space and six Romulan war-birds. Two green tractor beams held the Enterprise, Selene, and Defiant steady. Suddenly, the beams retracted and the war birds cloaked to return to Romulan Space.

'Mr. Lars,' Captain Shelby began. 'Inform Captain Picard and Worf of our new heading outside the Neutral Zone. Engage at maximum warp.'

'Aye, sir.'

As the ship engaged into warp drive, leaving the Neutral Zone at warp 9.7, Riker turned to Captain Shelby as she sat back in her chair.

'Concerning the technology…' Riker began. 'The telepathic circuit which I believe the Romulans were referring to-'

'It is not illegal for the Romulans to hold copies of it,' Shelby started. 'We cannot demand them to return it since the transaction was not made illegally. It hadn't been patented yet.'

'I know,' Riker continued. 'My point was that we _must not_ fire upon the Betazoid transport ship in a point of conflict, even if they fire upon us. Not even in self-defense. If they have information on the technology on board we must obtain it safely to secure the Federation's safety. We need to be on equal footing with the Romulans – who knows what they'll do with the technology. We would not want to risk losing that information by damaging their ship.'

'Dr Maddox will be pleased,' Captain Shelby said, smiling faintly. She addressed Veneer at operations. 'Inform the Enterprise and Defiant not to damage the Betazoid transport ship. We may damage their shields if necessary in order to engage a tractor beam, but do no more.'

'Captain Worf will _not_ be pleased,' Riker said, smirking.

Twenty seconds passed in silence.

'We will be entering Federation space in ten seconds, Captain,' Lars said from the helm.

Suddenly, Veneer furrowed his eyebrows at the console as it blipped in quick succession. 'Curious. We are detecting a shuttleship approximately six hundred kilometers away.'

'Does its design and dimensions match any known configuration?'

'Positive. It matches the configuration of the Argo, the shuttleship normally bound to the Enterprise.'

A wave of confusion crossed the bridge crew. Riker raised an eyebrow.

'The Enterprise left that shuttleship on Omicron Theta. By my understanding it was under repair,' Riker said suddenly. 'Could the pilot be Lore? Only he would be reckless enough to travel to the outskirts of the Neutral Zone in a shuttleship.'

'Uncertain, Admiral,' Veneer responded, confusion in his voice. 'There are no traces of humanoid or android-like structures on the ship.'

Captain Shelby furrowed her eyebrows. 'Then who is piloting the ship? Could there be an error with our sensors?'

'Detecting no problems with the sensors, Captain. The ship appears to be moving on sequential series of random vectors, however. It may be a diversion tactic.'

'There would be no reason for a diversion tactic unless they were being pursued - perhaps by Betazoid?' Riker said quickly. 'Plot a course to the shuttleship, Lieutenant Commander.'

'Why would the Betazoid want anything to do with Lore?' Geordi asked suddenly from his post at engineering. 'The only reason I can think of them wanting _anything_ to do with Lore is if they somehow thought he was Data, or…' he paused. '_Or if Data was with him!_'

'Shuttleship is in visual range now, Admiral,' Lars reported. 'Displaying on viewscreen.'

The Selene crew scrutinised the screen. The shuttleship was moving on an upward-course at warp five.

'That's the Argo, all right…' Riker grumbled, he raised his voice. 'Can you detect any androids in the vicinity, Mr. Veneer? They may have escaped.' He smiled faintly. 'I am sure not requiring oxygen to breath would help.'

'Conducting scan,' Veneer said. 'I have extended the scanner's range to three hundred kilometres, but it will take five minutes to complete.'

'That's too long!' Riker scowled. He glanced between Lars and Veneer. 'Could either one of you activate your communication chip? The range on that thing is pretty big, isn't it? The entire sector, correct?'

'Uh,' Lars began. 'Counselor Troi forbade me from activating my communication chip.'

'You can withstand a few minutes of telepathy for the sake of saving your Commander, can't you?' Riker said loudly. His eyes were nearly popping out of his head. 'My command overrides Counselor Troi's and I demand you activate your communication chip!'

Before Lars could do anything there was a series of beeps from his console. Lars ran his fingers over the buttons.

'Recommend we change course, sir, the Betazoid ship has been detected uncloaking ninety thousand kilometres from here.'

'Then do it!' Riker ordered. His insides were ringing. The only reason the Betazoid ship would uncloak would be to engage a tractor beam, transport, or fire. He hoped it was one of the former.

Tsar spoke up from tactical. 'Admiral, they are engaging their phaser cannons. They may have found Commander Data and Lore. Shall we load photon torpedoes?'

_Goddamn it._

'No! What did I say about not firing upon their vessel? We want to ruin their shields, not their ship! Photon torpedoes have too much fire-power than I'm willing to risk - use phasers instead.'

'Due to intercept the Betazoid transport ship in twenty seconds,' Lars reported.

Captain Shelby slammed her fist down on her arm rest. 'Are the Enterprise and Defiant following?'

'Yes, sir.'

'Due to intercept the Betazoid transport ship in ten seconds,' Lars said.

'Detecting phaser residue consistent with an enemy attack near the Betazoid ship, sir,' Tsar began. 'And detecting debris consistent with that of a small vehicle and the components of a Soong-type android.'

There was a long, uneasy silence on the bridge.

'Android components?' Riker repeated. 'What does that mean? Are there pieces of them flying around or are they disintegrated? Are they dead? What _happened_!?'

'Cannot confirm until we are stationary, sir.'

'Well, confirm it as soon as you're able to! And lock onto any "android matter" and be ready to teleport it or them onto the Enterprise's medical sick bay immediately! Inform Captain Picard that he may be expecting some guests.'

'We have arrived, sir. Activating visual,' Lars said.

'Teleporting android components onto the Enterprise, sir,' Veneer stated.

Riker shuffled restlessly in his seat. He wanted to go onto the Enterprise to see the damage but he expected he would hear from Dr Crusher about it any moment now. He gazed at the viewscreen.

Floating mechanical debris drifted in space before the purple Betazoid ship. The Enterprise and Defiant appeared near them. The Defiant flew towards the Betazoid ship in a rotational movement and commenced firing upon the ship – the phaser blasts dissipated against the transport ship's shield.

'The Betazoid ship is engaging warp drive, sir,' Veneer reported.

'Fire immediately upon their shields!' Riker shouted. 'Destroy their shields and then engage a tractor beam immediately! Don't let them get away!'

'We are receiving a hail from the Enterprise, sir, it's coming from the medical ward,' Veneer reported suddenly.

_Finally!_

'Patch it through, but continue firing upon the Betazoid!' Riker yelled. 'Use your consoles to monitor the fight and don't let yourself get distracted by the transmission.' He settled, somewhat. 'You're androids, I expect good things from you regarding your attention span.'

Captain Shelby was staring at Riker with a bemused smirk but her face became serious as the viewscreen flickered to life with a new image. A flustered Dr Crusher appeared on the screen. She was in her office. She pushed her ginger hair behind an ear.

'I am sure you're interested to know the status of the so-called "android components",' she said breathlessly. No smile reached her eyes. Dr Crusher continued. 'The impact of the explosion –' she paused, a loud banging coming from the medical bay behind her. She continued, her eyes darting. 'The impact of the explosion from what the Enterprise confirmed to be the Argo's terrain buggy caught Lore and Data in the blast. According to Lore, however, Data was also holding the Argo's phaser-weapon. Apparently the blast from the Argo was sufficient to make it explode which is what caused most of the damage. Data caught most of the blast. Lore has lost the entire right side of his body and his positronic network is damaged. There is –' There was the sound of yelling, some kind of argument coming from sickbay. Dr Crusher smiled nervously. 'As you can imagine, Lore is not very happy about this -'

'What about Data?' Riker demanded. 'Is he okay? Is he _alive_?'

Dr Crusher's face fell. 'That's –'

There was the sound of crashing of glass in the background and more yelling. Then, a regular clunking noise boomed through the speakers, steadily getting louder.

'Uh, hold on,' Dr Crusher stammered. She turned on her heel as an android hobbled into Dr Crusher's office leaning against a single metal crutch fused to his right shoulder. Dr Crusher was stern but her tone was gentle. 'Lore, go back to sickbay.'

Lore was a wreck. The right side of his positronic network was melted and sheared off. Starting from his nose and mouth and extending outward across the right half of his face to the back of his head was nothing but his positronic matrix blinking angrily instead of bioplast skin. His right eye was cracked down the middle and fused to the positronic matrix. None of the drones Riker recognized as being associated with self-repair were working in his positronic brain although there were some poking out of ruined shards of his clothes.

The shearing damage on Lore's head extended down his neck to where his right shoulder was meant to be. His right arm was gone and half his body was missing, only a metal crutch welded to his would-be shoulder for walking support. His yellow jumpsuit was charred and clung unhappily to what remaining bodice he had left, with no right leg to speak of. Lore's jumpsuit was covered in small semi-melted wires clinging to his clothes like ants. His remaining arm and remaining portion of his face was pierced with various thick shards of metal, patches of his hair were missing. Lore's remaining eyeball was livid.

He looked like some robotic Frankenstein monster.

The android screamed at the top of his remaining lung, metallic-sounding distortions entering his voice. 'I can help DatA if you'd just cOllect more of the paRts from the Argo!'

'I told you,' Dr Crusher could be heard saying. 'They're covered in radiation, it's too dangerous right now. Maybe in -'

'For _yOU_, mAybe!'

'And for you, too - you're still covered in it. It'll damage your circuits if you're not careful and rest.'

Lore grasped Dr Crusher's arm and squeezed it, speaking through grit teeth. The metallic distortions made the emphasis in his words even more frightening, like he was about to short-circuit and go on a rampage. 'It's nOt _my_ circUIts I'm worrIEd abOut.'

Dr Crusher's eyes widened and she gasped at the pain Lore was inflicting on her.

'Okay, okay! Just give me a moment,' Dr Crusher pleaded. When Lore didn't let go but merely squeezed more tightly she spoke quickly. 'We can collect more parts but it will have to go through a series of biofilters – it could take an hour in total.' Lore was still holding Dr Crusher's arm, apparently intent not to let go until he got what he wanted. She cried in pain. 'Lore, stop it! I can't help him _or_ you if you break my arm!'

Lore released Dr Crusher's arm, his face souring. He scowled and hissed at her. 'If you knEw how much time we had lEft…'

Dr Crusher clutched her arm, glaring at Lore and flexing her shoulder.

'I do know. You told me,' she said. She sighed, angrily. 'Look. You can make some of the circuits in the meantime with the _clean_ materials the Enterprise has on board, can't you? That'll save time, and then the biofilters will be finished before you know it! Just please go back to sick bay and keep an eye on Data for now, okay? Direct your questions to the nurses.'

Lore's only remaining functional eye rolled to stare at the Selene crew on the doctor's tiny console screen before he clunked awkwardly with the crutch back to the medical ward. He paused by the exit, turning to look at Dr Crusher with a look of utter hatred. She was rubbing her arm.

'A broken arm would be the lEAst of my worries, dOctOr,' he spat.

'And if you continue threatening me then Captain Picard will kick you off the ship - and then who do you think will help Commander Data?' Dr Crusher demanded, examining Lore's sudden silence with satisfaction.

Lore's mouth opened as if to argue but, thinking better of it, he gave her a dirty stare instead.

'Where is the nearest replicator?'

'Several rooms down on your left,' Dr Crusher said, giving what she hoped was an encouraging smile to Lore. 'We _will_ help Data as best we can, okay?'

Lore limped out of sight, his monstrous form disappearing from view. Dr Crusher's gaze returned to the Selene crew, whose eyes were all wide and horrified. Tsar spoke from the rear of the Selene, breaking the mystified silence.

'We have secured the Betazoid ship with a tractor beam, sir. Waiting for instructions.'

'Okay, good,' Riker said quickly, waving his arm dismissively to the android. 'But talk to Captain Shelby about that. Sorry – continue, Dr Crusher. Lore looks bad – is Data like him?'

'Yes, it's bad,' Dr Crusher said quietly. 'But Lore _will_ recover. I'm not sure about Data, though. He…' Dr Crusher sighed at the sound of more breaking equipment in the sickbay.

Did Lore not understand that they needed those to help people?

_Not android people, though_, Dr Crusher reminded herself quietly.

She took a deep breath, trying to figure out how to tell Riker about Data's condition. She figured she would tell it straight. 'Data's entire lower body is destroyed and the rest of him is in pieces. His positronic brain is currently in several broken fragments. Those little reparative drones seem to be working in some parts of his brain, but the positronic network is missing several key chips so it's impossible to repair the positronic brain despite their presence, or so Lore tells me.'

Riker paused, his heart falling. It sounded worse than he imagined. If Lore looked bad he didn't want to imagine how Data looked. Still, his mind conjured images nonetheless and he disliked every one of them. 'Lore says he can fix him?'

'I don't know if he can!' Dr Crusher stammered. 'I mean, the positronic brain is all that really _needs_ to be fixed – I'm sure Dr Maddox could craft him a new body - the trouble is the positronic brain is a really complex piece of machinery. Even though we know a lot more about how it functions and how to repair it, even _with_ the drones several parts will need to be made from scratch. It will impossible to restore Data to consciousness otherwise. Lore wants to try built new parts using the on-board replicators, but I insisted on removing the radiation traces first. Not only would that be safer for Data, but it would prevent radiation leaking to other parts of the ship. He's worried that we'd lose valuable time by using the biofilters but to be frank, programming the replicator to create positronic brain circuits will take a lot of time anyway - I just don't know if it can be done in time. The replicators on the Enterprise weren't designed to handle such complicated pieces of machinery.'

Riker waved his arm back toward the Selene, toward the other androids, including Geordi. 'Can none of them donate reparative drones or donate some circuits? Help somehow?'

Lars spoke from Riker's side. 'The drones cannot be safely removed once they have been inserted. As for the circuits, if they require buildling from scratch then to remove one from our own positronic brains would be highly hazardous - fatal.'

Riker's face darkened and he exchanged a glance with Dr Crusher. She looked as desperate as he was, except there was also traces of guilt in her eyes, of defeat.

_No, I don't want to lose Data, either._ Riker thought, mournfully. _We'll just have to trust Lore will do the best he can._

'What about the radiation?' Riker asked, hoping to keep Dr Crusher's emotions at bay. 'You mentioned it could damage the circuits?'

'It's killing the reparative drones,' Dr Crusher said. 'According to Lore they'll die in several hours.'

Riker looked around. 'But they're not required to repair the neural net, are they?'

'According to Lore they function a bit like glial cells in the positronic brain,' Dr Crusher said. 'Once introduced they help repair the neural network but they also become _a part_ of the network – making their own connections. When they die they usually create some residual connection. If there are pieces missing… well… the circuits will be there but they'll be incomplete and difficult to fuse to other portions of the neural net... For this reason, Lore thinks it will be easier to repair the neural network with their help, and I'm inclined to agree.'

Riker frowned, absorbing the information. So Lore had several hours to repair Data's neural network or his neural net would likely be irreparable. Given how angry Lore seemed to be with Dr Crusher, Riker imagined Data's hopes were slim.

'Do whatever Lore tells you,' Riker said. 'Even if it's dangerous. Make up for it. I don't want to lose Commander Data.'

'I _know_, I _plan_ to. But remember... Data's already gone, Will…' Dr Crusher began slowly, her voice cracking. She put a hand under her eye and blinked several times too many. 'It's just a matter of putting him back together again. It's not going to be easy.'


	35. The Fallen

Lore sat in the medical supply lab at the only desk with a console on it. The replicator was embedded in the wall right next to it.

Lore pulled a cord from the console, perhaps leftover from when Data was on the Enterprise, and connected it to his rear positronic net, hearing the satisfying click as it became secure. As Lore tried to shove the pathetic metal crutch over the top of the desk to between the desk and wall, it clanged angrily. At least if he were connected to the computer through his head he wouldn't have to rely on his hands – or the lack thereof.

As he closed his remaining eye and connected to the computer's database, he searched for the blueprints of Data's positronic brain and body, blueprints that still existed from when Data was Lieutenant Commander on the Enterprise ten years ago, cross-referencing them with the cumulative journal articles Lore had stored in his positronic brain by Dr Maddox over the last fifteen years.

As Lore started to program the appropriate blueprints into the replicator, Lore's left hand fingered the communicator badge on his chest, something Captain Picard had given him when he had visited in sickbay. Lore thought quietly to himself as he programmed new blueprints into the replicators, specifying what types of materials were to be used for the circuitry.

What if his attempt to restore Data didn't work?

Lore decided to contact Dr Maddox to inform him of the current situation.

'Computer, send subspace message to Dr Maddox at the Soong Institute of Technology on Omicron Theta,' Lore said. 'Begin message:_ Dear Dr Maddox, Requesting urgent response. Data has been destroyed by the Betazoid but his positronic brain may yet be salvaged. _

_If I fail to repair his positronic matrix is reverse-transference possible? His memory banks are mostly in-tact but sensory and arousal circuits are completely disintegrated. The emotion chip is also damaged which, combined with the sensory damage, may prevent accurate memory recall. This said, I should be able to fashion him a new one. _

_Please provide details on the most important parts and minimum required conscious activity for the reverse-transference procedure in case I fail… I am required to perform surgery within two hours. Lore out. _End message._'_

As he finished the message, the reverse transference procedure nagged at his neural network. He had to tell _somebody_ about it.

Lore knew after Captain Picard and Geordi LaForge, one of the people Data had trusted was Counselor Troi. Captain Picard was in a meeting about the Betazoid and Geordi LaForge was currently on the Selene so Counselor Troi seemed the most accessible at that moment. If Data trusted Troi, Lore knew he could probably trust her as well – he had to, for Data's sake.

After all, if something went wrong with the surgery Lore wanted to be able to assure the others that there may yet be another way of bringing Data back. He also had to reassure himself.

Though, it was likely the circuits required for restoring Data to consciousness were also required for performing reverse-transference. Lore hoped he would receive a speedy reply from Dr Maddox to be sure.

He pressed his fingers against the communication badge he had been provided. It trilled. He tried to keep his voice steady to prevent those annoying voice distortions from appearing, attributable to his damage positronic network.

'Counselor Troi, please report to medical bay five immediately. Lore out.'

The woman's reply came promptly. 'I am on my way.'

The doors to the medical bay slid open and Counselor Troi walked inside. She must have been visiting Data's remains if she had come so quickly, but Lore wasn't willing to believe he was dead just yet – "remains" was somehow inappropriate – it had an air of finality to it.

The Betazoid woman gasped when she saw Lore, her face turning an off-colour. Perhaps there was something to be said for seeing a monster compared to seeing a pile of android bits scattered across a medical gurney.

'Yes,' Lore said, trying to keep his voice steady, clanging his crutch-arm against the wall. 'I look terrible. But this isn't about me… I need to talk to you about Data.'

Counselor Troi closed her eyes briefly, the colour slowly returning to her face. She approached Lore and pulled up a chair next to him, examining the right half of his face which had the positronic matrix exposed. She touched the right side of her face in mimicry.

'Do you feel pain?'

'I shut off my pain receptors,' Lore said. 'It's easier to work that way.'

'But you have not shut off your response to emotional pain.'

Lore raised his only remaining eye at the Counselor. 'No... No, the emotions help me work.'

Counselor Troi raised her eyebrows at Lore. 'Do you see any similarity between how you are dealing with emotional pain in comparison to Data?' When she received silence, she continued. 'The way you are acting is very human, Lore. The Lore I used to know would have deactivated his emotion chip – you know, in the spirit of android convenience – so to see you not doing that… I must admit I am surprised at you.'

What Troi was saying was correct, and she had every reason to be surprised. For an android with Lore's history to suddenly gain some semblance of conscience? It was unexpected, even for him.

_I guess I took a leaf out of Data's book… But that's not the issue right now…_

'Speaking of humans,' Lore said, 'Did Data ever tell you that he was considering undergoing a reverse-transference procedure? To transfer his mind into a human body?'

'He mentioned it once or twice in a hypothetical way. Why do you ask?'

'To put it bluntly, the procedure now exists. Data was funding it. I learned from Dr Maddox that Data was going to undergo the procedure in secret once he returned to Omicron Theta. I've asked Dr Maddox for advice concerning it. If I can't bring Data back to life as an android, I'll bring him to Dr Maddox to try bring back to life as a human. It's what he would have wanted…'

'I see,' Counselor Troi said. 'I can inform the Captain for you.' She paused, and Lore wondered if she was processing what he had just told her. She spoke carefully, stunned. 'I am surprised Data didn't tell anybody.'

'He may have told LaForge.'

Lore's eyes scanned from left to right as he told the computer to try replicating an android visual cortex. He glanced over at the replicator and watched as it produced a very crude, oversimplified positronic matrix. Lore clenched his jaw and instructed the computer to remove it and try again, creating each layer of the matrix in turn like the replicator plates in the transference tubes.

'While I'm here, I wanted to discuss something with you,' Counselor Troi began, examining the replicator. 'It concerns your performance review – your court martial in several weeks.'

'Why does that need discussing?' Lore demanded. 'I'm done for. I'm not going to be Captain again. Everyone knows it.'

'The thing is that your crew has been acting strangely. Lars, for instance, has been experiencing hallucinations. I told the Selene crew to disable their emotion chips and communication chips and Lars seems to be having no problems since then.'

Lore turned his head, staring at Counselor Troi with a single eye like a reptile.

'What has this got to do with my court martial?'

'I'm saying that if there's evidence of mental illness among your crew - among Soong androids - you may be able to prepare a defense - a defense of insanity,' the Counselor said simply. 'Conversely, it may be a consequence of the Borg chip you made, since Lars claims the hallucinations started once Data left. But even if that were the cause, the result is the same - erratic behaviour. I am not sure of the cause, and it may involve several factors, but one thing is certain – the Selene crew has been acting strangely and nobody could have predicted this kind of reaction. You may be able to plea insanity and be forgiven for what you did.'

Lore considered the Counselor's proposal. For a brief second, he was back in the corridor to the transference lab where Brent had been staring at something he could not during his mental break. Then Lore remembered tormenting Lars in engineering for experiencing hallucinations, affecting his job performance. Then Lore remembered himself talking to a hallucinatory-like image of Commander Data when he was leaving Bar Nine after attacking Tsar. He remembered wondering if his crew were crazy that night – he certainly hadn't been the only one with erratic behaviour… Even Veneer was acting strangely around the Betazoid.

But all that considered, Lore's history of bad behaviour extended back far longer than the Selene crew's sudden meltdown. He had been acting erratically before Data had left, their previous meetings a perfect example, as well as his previous experience with the Borg. Although he may have been influenced somewhat from Data's departure, it did not feel like the result of mental illness, merely his own incompetence.

Had his crew been incompetent, though? No. They had held together quite well the previous ten years. Lore felt like the anomaly in the equation. That considered, using his crew's strange behaviour as part of a defense would be inappropriate since _he_ was not the one with the psychotic problem. He had a problem, but it was not one he was willing to brush aside as the result of faulty circuits - if he could change his behaviour it was evidence that whatever problem existed could be overcome. Therefore, he had been responsible for his own behaviour.

'No,' Lore said. 'No, I will not defend myself. I am guilty.'

'Lore –'

'NO!' Lore yelled. Counselor Troi flinched. He continued, trying to control his voice. 'I'm a guilty man, I won't defend myself. I don't deserve to be Captain. I abused my crew – and I abused _Data, _for god sakes! I should suffer the consequences.'

'I can tell that you feel very guilty right now,' the Counselor began. 'But that's no reason not to try –'

'No, no, no,' Lore shook his head, laughing hollowly. 'You do not understand. This is _my_ fault.' His only eye boggled at the Counselor. 'I never thought I'd see the day where I would be trying to convince a member of the Enterprise that I was not a terrible person, but,' he raised his arm, 'look at me. I am not a good person. You know I am, what I was, and I know it. A murderer. An abuser. A violent and disturbed man,' he sighed. 'The least I can do is save my brother. His opinion of me is the only one I care about... I don't care about Starfleet anymore. Data wanted me to take responsibility for my behaviour - and I am.' He lowered his hand, his gaze following it. 'If I can save Data, I don't care what happens to me...'

The Couselor frowned. 'Well, I would recommend you think about it a bit more, just in case you decide to change your mind. For instance I talked with Dr Maddox about the Borg chip and he said there's a good possibility there was a malfunction in the chip. For instance, if a crew is tied together telepathically for too long, one comes to expect the presence of others in the neural net and hallucinations therefore occur when someone disappears,' Troi explained, but she gazed upon Lore's angry expression and decided to cease that line of thought. She sighed. 'Just think about it. There's still two weeks until your trial. You may yet be able to create a defense.'

'No – my mind's made up. _Forget it._ Forget trying to defend me because I'm _not_ worth it,' he paused, bewilderment crossing his face. Why was Counselor Troi pushing him on this, anyway? 'Why do you care so much if I'm Captain or not? It has nothing to do with you.'

'Because…' Troi began. Her eyes filled with tears and Lore was suddenly taken aback by it. Her lower lip trembled, but she closed her eyes, attempting to regain composure. Where was this coming from? 'Because I think Commander Data would have wanted you to remain Captain.'

_Ah._

'What makes you say that?' Lore asked, his eyes wide. 'I mean, he was considering becoming human – he clearly had no plans for spending time with me if I were to remain Captain. He wouldn't have been able to live on the Selene…'

'That is irrelevant, Lore!' Troi said fiercly, taking in a deep breath. 'Honestly, Lore. Do you really think Data would have stuck around on a ship full of androids if he didn't enjoy it on some level? Do you really think he would have settled for being First Officer for so many years if he didn't respect his Captain? He easily could have taken your job. But even if Data was planning on becoming human, that didn't mean the two of you couldn't respect one another... That you couldn't be… _companions_…' She paused. 'I know you both cared very deeply for one another.'

Lore sank back in his chair, a small smile crossing his face. 'Did Data tell you that?' But it was a rhetorical question. It didn't matter how she knew, she believed it. It might not have been incorrect, either. Data had shown affection towards him in their last moments together. He had started to open up to him.

_No, he's not gone yet._

He glanced at Counselor Troi but she was already getting to her feet, a small smile on her face.

'Best of luck with Data,' she said softly. 'For both your sakes, I hope you can do it.'

She left promptly, perhaps to return to sickbay.

After a few minutes of circuit making attempts, Lore continued to alter the program. He was pleased that he was now able to make a functional visual cortex, so at least in theory creating the other parts would have been simple. However, according to the computer the system was quickly running out of several trace metals required for the neural links. Hopefully he would receive the biofiltered materials from Dr Crusher soon.

Suddenly, Lore received a return message from Dr Maddox. He rerouted the audio through the console.

'_Dear Lore,_

_I am sorry to hear about Data. I hope you can reconstruct him._

_Regarding the reverse transference procedure, he does need to be conscious for the procedure in the same way consciousness is required for transference in order to preserve the sensory quality of memory. Regarding the damaged circuits, you are correct, the lack of sensory and emotional binding with his memory may prevent implicit memory recall. However, explicit memory recall should be intact to an extent. We should expect some memory loss, however, even if you do restore the brain with new parts._

_I have started to regrow Data's human body in anticipation of your arrival. Captain Picard has assured me the Enterprise will arrive in one and a half hours. Please try to have Data's positronic matrix restored by that point._

_Take care,_

_Dr Bruce Maddox._'

Lore soaked in the message, his suspicions confirmed. If Data had to be conscious, he really _did_ need Data's positronic brain intact. If he failed to restore Data to consciousness, he would be gone forever. Sure, there was the human body in the transference lab with Data's blueprint of a positronic brain, but it had none of Data's memories. It was, as Lal was upon her initial activation, sharing Data's neural nets but having none of the content inside. It wouldn't be Data.

Data would be gone...

Lore blinked, his mind drifting to the moment when the phaser-rifle had exploded in Data's hand.

Lore had not seen much due to the smoke and shards of vehicle bombarding him, but he had seen the bright white explosion of sparks as the phaser gun Data held was pierced with phaser cannon ricochet down the weapon barrel. There had been a screeching roar as the high-energy matter container exploded in his hand. Lore remembered his arms burning, the mental numbness as his neural net was overloaded with sensory inputs. He had clung to Data, trying to shield him from the damage, but his body had started to tear apart. The bioplast skin was peeled away from his body and face, excrutiating pain reaching his neural servos as his entire right body was torn to shreds in the explosion.

And then there was nothing.

He remembered feeling disoriented, suddenly drifting away in space, his remaining eye rolling into his head. And then the Federation ships had appeared...

He sighed deeply, an emotional heaviness in his neural net. However, he straightened his back and glared at the replicator with newfound determination. He wasn't giving up yet.

With a newfound zeal, Lore busied himself with the replicator for the next hour, Dr Crusher's biofiltered materials being added to the Enterprise's databanks within good time.

Once the hour was up, he balanced the newly made chips and circuits in his left hand and limped out of the medical bay. As he walked through the sliding doors, the metal crutch got caught on the side of the automatic doors with a bang. Cursing to himself, Lore slammed to the floor of the corridor and landed on his left arm. His failed arm twisted backward on an awkward angle, trapped in the gap between the doors and the wall.

Data's freshly made circuits skidded across the floor, and Lore's eye tracked the movements, feeling helpless, stupid, and pathetic. He clenched his left fist and pushed himself to his feet, trying to yank the crutch out of the gap in the wall.

Nurse Ogawa appeared by the doorway and rushed to help him. Lore accepted the help, recognising his movements were too limited to dislodge it on his own. He was a fucking cripple.

He was assisted to his feet and swayed, adjusting his balance on the poor excuse for a temporary limb. Nurse Ogawa smiled at him and carried the new circuits and chips into the medical bay for Lore, radiating kindness. But the kindness made Lore feel stupid. Worthless. What good was he as an android if his superior physical abilities were stripped from him?

He limped into the medical bay, the crutch clanking noisily as if to announce to all the world his disability. He felt self conscious and insecure.

In that moment, Lore started to doubt his ability to even perform the operation.

How could he repair Data's positronic network with a missing arm?

* * *

><p><em>AN: It was only as I wrote this chapter that I realized I had pretty much (accidentally on purpose) made Data into a damsel in distress for this story. He got kidnapped, Lore has to save him. He gets blown up... Lore has to save him. Oops. _

_In my defense, Data makes a good damsel in distress. And Lore and Data both go through their own special brand of hell so it's not an entirely unequal sharing of bad-times.  
><em>


	36. Remember Me

Lore's Frankenstein body limped into sickbay. Nurse Ogawa placed Data's new circuits by the bed where Data's remains were in a surgical tray. Lore stared around the sickbay. His eye widened as Dr Crusher tugged him towards a sick-bed. He fell backwards against it as he lost balance, swearing in alarm.

'Just stay there, Lore,' she said, turning her head. 'Nurse Ogawa, get the prosthetics, please.'

'Prosthetics?' Lore demanded. 'But you don't have the materials left to make the appropriate – _I told you_ not to make extra parts for me!'

'Don't worry, the prosthetics were donated.'

Lore lifted his head and saw Nurse Ogawa carrying a golden arm and leg in her hands. It was of Soong-android make. But who had donated them?

Dr Crusher picked up the welding device and removed the crutch Lore previously had as an arm. She replaced it with the Soong arm, making sure the tiny drones in Lore's body attached it correctly. As they did, Nurse Ogawa attached the leg, twisting it into the mangled socket with a loud click.

'Who –' Lore began, but Dr Crusher was already explaining.

'Lars Soong was kind enough to donate his arm and leg,' Dr Crusher said. 'Your old crew were arguing about what to do about your … situation…' she sighed, exhasperated, 'which is why it took so long!' She tapped the golden arm enthusiastically with her knuckles. 'There. They're attached. Now, I've placed all the instruments you'll need for the operation beside Data's parts. Please make use of them. And let me know if you need anything else.' She glanced at the wall. 'You have thirty minutes left until the drones stop working. We arrive at Omicron Theta about twelve minutes after that.'

Lore sat up, flexing his temporary arm and glancing at his new leg. The bare leg glimmered gold in the overhead lights, but he didn't have time to feel embarrassed or concerned about his half nakedness. He still looked hideous, his chest and abdomen half missing, and he had other things to worry about.

He threw his legs off the table, standing at uneven heights given one foot was wearing a boot and the other was bare. He reached Data's sick bay table and examined the remaining circuits on the tray. Dr Crusher wheeled a table over to him, and Lore picked up a pair of micropliers from it.

Lore peered mournfully at the broken pieces – Data's remains. The positronic brain was in six different pieces, all of them squirming with desperate and dying reparative drones. Data's face had been sheared off with the same forces that had brought Lore's to ruin so there was no recognisable face in the mess. But Lore knew they didn't need to restore his ability to speak or repair his face or hair. They just needed to restore his consciousness.

He knew just how to monitor it.

With his other hand he attached a cord to his positronic network and attached it to a stray portion of Data's neural net.

The signal was dead, but he expected as much.

Lore suddenly raised his eyes to look at Dr Crusher and Nurse Ogawa. Giving them a nod, he reached for the blue curtains dangling around the bed and pulled them around him. He did not want to be distracted by external stimuli.

He started to place the pieces back together like a 3D puzzle. It started as an operation of identification, recognising the parts of each chip that would connect to the next. He felt frustrated as he did this, painfully aware of the time he had left before the drones ceased to function, even though identifying the parts and sections only took about half a minute. Every second would count.

Picking up the visual cortex he had made his fingers grasped a small chip on the surgical tray and attached it to the lower half. A few drones snagged onto it, grasping desperately to the circuit, weaving the two portions together. Then, Lore picked up the arousal circuits he had made and attached them together into a spine-like structure, and attached that to the medial portion of the visual cortex.

He reached down to pick up the heart of the positronic brain, a small cuboid chip with an energy-generator attached, and snapped it to the bottom of the spine. As he did, he removed a fine needle from the metallic array and listened carefully to his positronic network for any signal. He could sense a small current flowing through to his neural network from the cable.

If there was a current flowing through the arousal circuit, it meant he was beginning to restore a primitive consciousness to the still limited positronic brain. Lacking sensory receptors such as retinas, it could not yet see despite having a visual cortex. Lacking a memory circuit, it could not yet remember. But Lore knew, despite this, that it had the _capacity_ for consciousnesss… and that was the important part. Soon, it would be able to remember, to experience, though it would still lack a body. Perhaps Lore would even be able to communicate with it through the positronic brain. If he could, he might be able to gauge the degree of memory loss due to the damaged parts.

He only hoped Data could remember who he was.

Biting his tongue, trying not to ruminate on what-ifs as it would only serve to distract him, the android went about attaching somatic, audio, olfactory and gustatory cortices, creating a donut-type structure around the arousal circuit. His fingers grasped language circuits and attached them on top, roughly in the location of the parietal lobes on the donut-like structure. He reattached a few other curved and flat-paneled circuits to the outside which served to link the sensory cortices together.

After twenty minutes of this process, for he had to wait for the drones leftover in Data's positronic network to reattach themselves fully before attaching each piece, there were only two pieces left in the positronic network remaining.

The current running through Data's positronic matrix had changed in nature once he had attached the new circuits. The current's wavelength had increased in amplitude and was starting to acquire the phase associated with a fully-functional positronic matrix. Lore could sense blotches of colour and a ringing sound in the neural net, sensory cortical noise owing to the lack of receptors but also the imposition of a pattern due to the recently attached logic circuit. The logic circuit's nature was to process sensory stimuli and apply order. The result was that random noise gained structure, though it was still abstract in nature.

The operation of attaching each new circuit was mechanistic in nature, but, Lore reminded himself, restoring the structures that supported consciousness was also a mechanistic operation. The brain now had the capacity to think and process sensory stimuli. It could attempt to produce motor movements, but it had no reason to – no ability to, lacking limbs. Lacking the ability to process external stimuli and only make sense of internal stimuli, it was only slightly less sophisticated than a jellyfish or starfish's nervous system.

Lore's fingers grasped the memory chip, Data's memory chip, off the table. Reaching down into the donut-liked structure, he connected the large, cylindrical circuit to the rest of it. As he pushed it down the hole, he saw strings of black drones reaching out to lock the memory circuit into place like spiders attaching a web to a branch.

The final piece of the circuit still remained to be added – the emotion chip. But before he could attach it, he had to wait for the memory circuit to be fully integrated. As he peered into the positronic brain, he clenched his jaw, watching the black drones disappear and fill in the blanks – filling the donut structure with green and white metallic arrays.

Once the final drone had disintegrated, its purpose fulfilled, Lore started to hear voices in his neural net and see images. Old memories were probably surfacing to Data's neural net, but they passed too quickly to make into anything coherent. It was possible the sudden integration of the memory chip with the rest of the brain was causing the positronic brain to relate the memories into the rest of the system. Lore realized it might take some time to consolidate those memories, but did not want to disrupt the process. He searched for the time of completion in Data's neural net, finding it to be fourty five minutes, before disconnecting.

The cord dangled from his head but he could not be bothered to do anything about it. He was still disturbed by the fact that he would have to wait to find out if his work had been worthwhile - he still did not know how much Data remembered, if anything.

His fingers pressed the final piece of the puzzle, the emotion chip and the (offline) communication chip, into the brain. He secured it underneath the memory circuit. When the humming of the drones finally ceased, Lore knew his work was done. He sighed, knowing he could do no more.

'It's done,' he muttered. Lore spun around and pulled back the curtains. He raised his voice. 'It's done!'

Dr Crusher had been pacing outside Lore's work-area and stopped at the sight of him. Her forehead was creased with uncertainty. Upon seeing the small smile on his face she heaved a sigh.

'It's done? Oh, what a relief... I think the rest of the crew will be happy to hear it. We weren't sure if you would be able to do it, what with ... Anyway - we _did_ have faith in you, you know.' She looked flustered. 'I mean, it's good we were able to get the replicators working…' She paused. 'Do you know the extent of the memory loss?'

'Not yet, I'm afraid,' Lore said. 'The memories won't be completely integrated with the neural net for fourty five minutes. To an outside observer they are… incoherent.'

Dr Crusher nodded. 'You know, Deanna informed me that Data would be acquiring a human body when he returned to Omicron Theta, not a new android body. She said Dr Maddox informed her that there was a significant risk of memory loss with the procedure given Data will be the first participant, and given that the research is still highly experimental. Is that true?'

'That is correct,' Lore said. He sat on the end of the sickbay bed and picked up Data's positronic brain, holding it in his hands like a precious egg as if to incubate it between his palms. 'I'll reconnect with Data once the memory integration is complete.'

'Inform me of the results, won't you?' Dr Crusher asked. 'I would like to be able to add it to Data's medical record. Also, I think at this point it's a question of the _extent_ of the memory loss, not whether there is any or not. Just try not to get too hopeful.' She stared at him. 'You look tired. Have you slept recently?'

'No,' Lore said. 'Androids don't need sleep.'

'And androids don't have mental breakdowns either,' Dr Crusher said sarcastically, shaking her head. 'You know what? You can sleep here. I'll tell Dr Maddox where you are.'

Lore nodded quietly.

'Understood, Doctor,' Lore muttered. He stared to Dr Crusher and then to Nurse Ogawa. 'Tell Lars I'll give him his limbs back once we get to Omicron Theta. Tell him thanks for me?'

Holding Data's brain close to his chest, he tore the blue curtains around the bed once again and lay down on his side. He rest his head against the pillow, tucking his legs underneath him.

Holding Data's positronic net to his chest like a child holds a bear, he closed his eyes and fell asleep.

* * *

><p>Lore woke when he heard the curtains being pulled aside. His eyes glanced upon a blue Starfleet uniform, his only remaining eye rolling up to look at Dr Bruce Maddox standing over him.<p>

Dr Maddox's eyes were kind, though his lips were a fine line of concern. His eyes moved steadily over the broken matrix on the right half of his face to his chest and abdomen that was half-missing. He raised his eyebrows in amusement as if to say 'You really are a mess,' but his gaze was serious again.

Dr Maddox reached for the positronic network in Lore's arms but Lore instinctively held it closer to his chest, his eye glaring at Dr Maddox like a predatory animal. He was still half asleep.

'Come, Lore. Dr Crusher was kind enough to let you rest until Data's memories had downloaded, but we must carry Data's positronic matrix to the transference lab immediately. You may communicate with him on the way if you wish. We must start the operation immediately.'

Before Lore could get up on his own, Dr Maddox tugged at Lore's arm, forcing Lore to his feet. Still feeling the heaviness of the dream he had had, one he could not quite remember, Lore walked out of sickbay and into the nearest transport room. Dr Maddox was clearly in a hurry because he walked at an extremely fast pace, faster than human standards.

Climbing onto the transport pad, Lore stared at the transport officer who nodded at Dr Maddox.

With a whir of blue and white light Lore and Dr Maddox reappeared on the transport pads in the foyer of the Soong Institute of Technology. Lore's eyes darted toward the large door to transference lab fifteen as Dr Maddox tugged on his arm to make him follow. He only had a little time left to talk with Data, and he promised Dr Crusher he would figure out how much he remembered.

Lore's hands searched for the linking cord, his hand knocking his head plates by accident. But his fingers found it and grasped it, following the thick cord to the end. Lore connected it to Data's positronic brain.

After a few moments of static, he heard a voice in his head. Data's voice.

'Brother? I believe I recognize the structure of your neural net. I do not understand why I lack sensory receptors, however. I understand that I have no body, but I do not know why. Can you tell me?'

Lore felt a warm sensation in his chest as he listened to the voice. Data was _okay_… he remembered him. But to what extent did Data remember him? Did he remember anything else? Lore regretted that he did not have much time to find out. And if he did, he would have to ask again when Data woke from the reverse-transference operation.

'Data…' Lore responded, mute to Dr Maddox's ears. 'Your body and positronic matrix were destroyed in an explosion in space. I was damaged too. I used the only salveable materials to create new parts for your positronic matrix. Dr Maddox is taking us to the transference lab so he can transfer your consciousness, your memories, to a new body – a human body. Is there anything I just said that doesn't make sense to you?'

'Just one, brother,' Data began.

As Lore waited for Data to continue, his heart sinking at what he possibly might say, Dr Maddox pulled him through the dimly lit corridors and the doors of the transference lab's security clearance.

Data continued, his tone steady. 'My memory is patchy. I do not remember an explosion, brother, but I remember moments before the Argo _should_ have exploded… I just wanted to ask… What was the last thing you remember me saying to you?'

Lore lowered his head to pass through one of the thick doors. He and Dr Maddox reached the junction outside the lab. The brain and body storage was located on the left and the actual transference lab on the right. Dr Maddox's hand was still tight on Lore's upper arm as he pulled him through the left door.

'You said, "'Hold on tight, brother. This may be a rough ride.'",' Lore replied.

'No, before that, brother.'

Lore and Dr Maddox walked down the tall black ailes, the chill of the room engulfing them like a shroud. Lore wrapped his arms tighter around Data's neural net automatically, as if it were a small fuzzy animal at risk of hypothermia. Lore's gaze did not absorb his surrounds with much precision. His mind was focused on the steady phase-modulated signal he was receiving from Data's positronic network. He rewound his mental memory to when he and Data were still in the Argo buggy, contemplating their fate, their impending doom, to answer Data's query.

'You said…' Lore replied. '"If I am honest with you, Lore. Uh… Brother, I…'"

'And then what did I say?' Data asked.

'You didn't say anything. That's when the Betazoid ship appeared. Don't you remember that?'

'I do not.'

There was a long pause from Data. Dr Maddox dragged Lore around a corner, reaching the end of the wall and the door to his administration office on the lateral wall. As they reached it, Dr Maddox spoke swiftly and clearly:

'Maddox-three-ten-omega-five.'

The automatic doors opened and the two shuffled into the room. Dr Maddox released Lore's arm.

'Data,' Lore began, speaking through his neural net to Data. 'Dr Maddox is about to take you from me to start the operation. Is there something you wanted to say?'

If Lore had a human heart it would have been beating in his chest with excitement and trepidation, but he tried to control his emotions - he did not want them to distract Data from completing his sentence.

'I wanted to say,' Data responded, slowly, carefully, 'that I love you, brother.'

Lore let out a small breath, a sigh. A smile spread across his lips, a feeling of absolute warmth filling him. To hear Data say that! It was like a dream come true. There was so much Lore wanted to say, to explain – he wished he could touch Data, that he wasn't just holding a brain. But he was painfully aware of how much time he had left with Data until he underwent the critical operation. He only hoped to convey his happiness to Data in the short moment he had left.

'Data…' Lore began, his mental voice shaking with excitement, 'I-'

But before Lore could continue he was jerked back to reality as Dr Maddox slipped his hands around the positronic network in Lore's hands and teased it out of his grip, the cord tugging on Lore's head. Lore's fingers grasped pure air and he blinked in confusion, his ruined face contorting with surprise.

Dr Maddox's expression was filled with urgency.

'Finished talking?' Dr Maddox asked. 'We must proceed immediately with the operation if it is to be successful.'

'Wait,' Lore told Dr Maddox. He tuned his voice inwardly. 'Data, Dr Maddox must start the operation now.'

'Very well,' Data said. His voice seemed hopeful, though hesitant. 'Lore?'

'Yes?'

'I hope to see you by my side when I wake up.'

'I promise I will be.'

Lore raised his eyes to Dr Maddox and nodded.

Dr Maddox removed the cord from Data's positronic brain, letting it dangle by Lore's face. Dr Maddox approached the desk.

Lore tugged the remaining cord from his own head and closed the flap on his scalp, shoving the cord into his tattered and charred jumpsuit pocket.

Once Dr Maddox had taken the brain away from him, Lore realized that the administration office was slightly different. The large black container that had contained Data's human body was missing. Instead, the human Data was lying across the desk as if it were a gurney, his upper skull removed and clamps holding blood vessels closed.

The pulsing white matter visible in the skull cavity was connected to a series of wires – red, blue, and green - dangling free. There were several hundred of them. There were also cortical stimulators and electroencephalographic recording electrodes splaced in regular positions along Data's scalp and all manner of heart, pulse, and muscle activity monitors active and blinking on the wall, each connected to the human's neck and arms with flat circular pads.

Dr Maddox rest the positronic brain against a free potion of table and then pulled one of the wires attached to Data's human brain towards him. He pinched the tiny clamps at the end of them between his fingers and connected them to junctions on the positronic brain. Lore watched Dr Maddox work at increased speed, connecting each of the wires to Data's brain with apparent ease.

Lore approached the desk, taking a good look at Data's human body.

His face was pale, but his expression serene. There were no abnormalities on the skin, no red patches. His lips were not gold like an android body might be, but a light pink colour. There was a long white blanket draped over the rest of Data's body except his arms which were placed over the top of the sheet. The human's chest rose and fell gently.

There was a pulse monitor around his left wrist. Lore looked upon the blue veins under the skin in fascination.

As Dr Maddox finished attaching the wires, linking Data's human brain and positronic brain, he picked up a tiny forked device. He pressed the forked device against Data's positronic brain and tiny sparks jumped into the air as it made contact with a loud zapping sound. Once Dr Maddox did this, he examined the results of the electroencephalogram on the wall. As he had applied the electric pulse, a spike had appeared in the human's parietal lobe, appearing as a blip on the electroencephalogram.

Dr Maddox repeated the action on another wire and checked for the result on the electroencephalograph. It seemed to be a preliminary check of some kind.

Lore walked around to the other side of the desk and sat down in the chair, his gaze moving between Dr Maddox and the human. He was about to get settled when there was a trill from his chest and a human voice – Admiral Riker.

'Mr. Lore, Lars is requesting you return his limbs to him when you have a moment. He would like to leave the Enterprise and visit the surface of Omicron Theta. He says he will join you in the transference lab to create a new body for you if you require assistance.' Admiral Riker paused before continuing.

'I also wanted to inform you about the Betazoid. We successfully identified the engineer, Sekai, with a DNA test. It seems the Romulans altered his appearance, perhaps so he and others could sneak onto Omicron Theta undected. He and the other Betazoid will be put in prison and put on trial for their crimes, though to be frank I do not think the engineer will last much longer - he is in the final stages of his disease.' Admiral Riker waited for any questions from Lore, but heard none. 'In the meantime, I spoke to Dr Maddox while you were asleep – he has agreed to make the Betazoid telepathy chip available to any android who would like to make use of the technology. After all, if the Romulans have the technology, it would be foolhardy not to have that same technology available to the Federation.'

Lore pressed the badge on his chest to respond.

Yes, okay,' Lore said quickly, grateful for the information but at the same time not wanting to know more. 'I don't care what you do with the Betazoid at this point, but tell Lars I'll join him shortly outside the lab. I'm about to witness an important procedure and I don't intend to miss it.'

Admiral Riker spoke again before Lore could drop the connection. 'By the way, I heard about what you did for Commander Data. Needless to say I am very glad to hear that he is alive - that he's conscious. I hope his operation is a success. We're all very anxious about it here on the Enterprise. You'll let us know how it goes, won't you?'

'Yes,' Lore said stiffly. He got to his feet and glanced down at Data's face. He could still hear the static from the communicator. When could he leave? He didn't want to risk disrupting the communicator connection by moving, since this room was the only place in the lab with any semblance of communication ability. 'Was there anything else you wanted to say to me, Admiral?'

Admiral Riker cleared his throat. 'Yes. I'll be quick. Based on Counselor Troi's evaluation of the Selene crew, I believe it may be worthwhile temporarily disbanding the crew for their own well being. I think it would be best to consider putting non-androids on board, having a larger crew, and having more frequent leave. After all, since androids do not appear to be immune to psychological stress and groups as a general rule seem to function better with diversity in them, I think it would help the Selene function normally.' Lore nodded to himself, irritably. Yes, that made sense, but what did it matter to him? He would not be joining the Selene again.

Admiral Riker continued. 'Could you pass on a message to Data for me once he recovers? Let him know that if he were to apply to be the Captain of the Selene... that he would be one of the more promising candidates. Let him know that myself or Captain Picard would be willing to write a generous reference... Riker out.'

Lore examined Data's face as the communicator static disappeared.

_Data, the Captain of the Selene? Its first human Captain?_

Lore brushed Data's cheek with the back of his hand, feeling the prickling of small hair against his skin.

He wouldn't be against returning to the Selene if Data was there. But first there had to be a Data to take the position. And Lore needed a proper body to function.

_I'll be back soon, Data,_ he vowed, silently.

* * *

><p>When Data gained consciousness, he was aware of a heavy sensation on his mind, like it was being crushed by an immense pressure. With only a fleeting awareness of his body, he struggled to open his eyes, as if his eyelids were held down by weights. His mind was full of fuzz and his muscles ached – oh, to feel muscles ache! As he became conscious of the new sensations, he found himself filled with excitement and curiosity, though he did not know why.<p>

He opened his eyes. Two beings were by his sides. One was a pale person in a blue uniform. The other was a man with golden skin and gold eyes with dark brown hair slicked back across his head. He was wearing a yellow jumpsuit with a black turtleneck shirt underneath. For some reason, the second of the two felt more important to him.

Data parted his lips, his blue eyes staring at the two people before him. He felt like they were familiar, but he could not say how or why. Any memories he tried to conjure appeared a haze - a garbled mess. He breathed in air, and only knew that the feeling of his lungs expanding and falling was a curiosity to behold. He was also curious of the sensation of a thin blanket - a simple sheet - against his naked flesh. It made him feel self aware of his body's natural micro-movements, and he found that fascinating.

But why did he feel this way - so aware, so curious? Had he not always been this way? Was he not always human?

The golden man was holding Data's left hand. Data felt a warm and comforting sensation in his chest as he noticed even though the man's hands were icy cold.

'Data?' the gold-skinned man asked. Data blinked. Yes, that was _his_ name. He recognized that, but he could not remember the man. Data's lips curled upwards into an innocent smile, trying to conjure memories of the man but reaching a blank wall. Maybe that would change the longer he was awake.

'Who are you?' Data asked, furrowing his eyebrows. 'I apologize. I feel like you are familiar, but I cannot remember why.'

The golden man's eyes fell, his gaze darkening. Data felt a horrible wrenching in his stomach as he watched. Instinctively, Data squeezed the man's hand and tried to sit himself up. As he did he felt his head spin and immediately regretted it. His head pounded with sudden pain and discomfort.

Data turned his head and vomited onto the floor by the desk. His body retching and the splattering of the clear liquid onto the floor was unpleasant to feel and watch, though curious. It left an acidic and bitter taste in his mouth. It was unpleasant. Yet, he felt intrigued, despite it.

Why did that interest him so? Why did the natural expulsion of liquid seem so fascinating? Why did it fill him with a childlike curiosity? As he understood it, vomiting was a perfectly ordinary human function in conditions of sickness. Was he sick? He stared at the small pool of liquid on the floor, a cold sweat appearing on his forehead. Maybe he was unwell.

Perhaps he was some kind of scientist. He could not remember his profession, but it was a plausible explanation. Maybe he studied human behaviour. Maybe he was an alien. That would certainly explain his curiosity.

He felt a cold hand on his back and looked back from the floor. The man in the blue uniform was easing him back down to the bed.

Perhaps those people could tell him!

'Data, I am Dr Bruce Maddox,' the man explained, pressing Data back against a pillow. 'Try to take it easy. You have been under general anaesthesia so it may be difficult for you to move initially or think clearly. You have just undergone an important operation which may have affected your memory recall. I do not know if these changes are permanent. Can you tell me if you know what that operation was?'

Data struggled to remember, as his memories were a dream he could not recall from waking too fast.

'No,' Data admitted.

The golden man's cheek twitch with unhappiness as he spoke.

It seemed familiar. Yes, this all seemed familiar. Data felt frustrated, suddenly. He had to try convey his thoughts to them, to reassure them! To reassure the golden man who seemed so disturbed that he might yet remember them!

Data spoke quickly. 'You both seem familiar to me, but I cannot remember anything as of yet. If I have just woken from some kind of brain surgery then I believe my memories will return to me in due time. I can sense them bubbling under the surface of my conscious mind, as if they were waiting for the opportune moment to reveal themselves. So, please... Do not worry.'

The golden man turned towards him and spoke finally, his voice extraordinarily similar to his own.

'Listen to me carefully, Data. I'll tell you a bit about yourself. Maybe it'll help you remember. See, you were an _android_ before the operation - an android like me. You had been built by Dr Noonian Soong over twenty years ago. You joined Starfleet and worked on a starship called the Enterprise and then worked under my command on the Selene. You had wanted to be human, to acquire your own humanity, throughout your whole life. It was something you could never attain, but now you have it. You may explore your humanity in a whole new way, now,' the android explained, his gold eyes scanning Data's face.

'I see,' Data said, absorbing the information. A few memories stirred in his mind, but they had yet to surface, still.

The android squeezed Data's hand and continued his tale. 'My name is Lore, and we were and are brothers in the crude human sense, even though we were machines and technically don't share DNA. We shared the same father - Dr Soong,' He paused. 'But there was- and is - more to our relationship than that,' he added. 'We were in love...'

The longer Data looked at Lore, the more he seemed familiar. But he could still not recall anything, just vague emotions and sensations. He felt like what Lore was saying was correct, and he longed to spend more time with him – to talk with him more. If they were in love then they must have had an emotionally salient history together. If that was true, then spending more time with Lore may be the best way of recovering his memories.

Dr Maddox stared between the two and then got to his feet. 'I will return in a few minutes. I am going to collect some food for Data to eat. He must be hungry.'

Data's eyes widened, feeling childish excitement at the bare prospect. _Food!_

His stomach was empty and he hungered - but he hungered for the experience, too. If what Lore had said was true - that he was an android before - then it would be his first time eating. What was it like to eat?

Once Dr Maddox had left, Lore scooted his chair closer to Data. He pressed his hand against Data's cheek, his index finger moving in a smooth stroking motion. A hot, tingling sensation shot up Data's spine at the sensation. Data's breath caught in his throat, as if he had suddenly forgotten how to breath.

'Does this seem familiar?' Lore asked, his eyes glancing down at Data's lips. He was getting so close… Data could see his own face reflected in Lore's eyes, and found himself unfamiliar with the reflection. He looked just like Lore except without the gold skin and eyes, but before he could ponder upon the reflection further Lore's breath tickled his lips and Data gasped with an organic, unfamiliar pleasure shooting through his body. Lips were sensitive!

'Tell me if this jumpstarts your memory, brother,' Lore muttered.

Before Data could make sense of what was happening, Lore had pressed his cold lips against Data's and kissed him with the passion of a desperate man. Data's eyes fluttered close and he reciprocated, feeling a rushing sensation in his head and chest as their lips pressed against one another, engaging in a type of intimate communication Data had long forgotten but was slowly being reminded of. But some things were different. Lore's lips were very firm compared to his own, for instance.

Lore pressed his fingers firmly against the side of Data's head and slipped them into his hair, avoiding the stitches.

Lore's mouth tasted very strange, Data decided. Data could not compare it to any other sensation at that moment, but he later learned it was like the taste of a battery. A sharp, metallic taste. But it was not dangerous, nor unpleasant. As they continued to kiss, Data felt a pain in his chest, his lungs suddenly craving oxygen, his heart suddenly pounding against his chest in protest.

As if detecting this change, Lore drew away and watched Data.

Data breathed heavily, his head spinning, his head sinking deeper into the pillow with immediate exhaustion.

Remembering to breath would be something he would have to get used to.

Lore smirked at Data, his eyes kind.

'You're blushing,' he said, softly. 'I've never seen that happen to you before… It's cute.'

'It's not my fault you suffocated me,' Data accused, teasing, but before he could speak again he suddenly felt a pain in his head and moaned. His head felt like a balloon that was expanding beyond its limits, his mind suddenly filling with images and sounds that he could not discern, the pain attacking him from all sides.

Lore's eyes widened. 'Are you okay?'

Lore examined the line of stitches across Data's forehead with a frown, perhaps wondering if they were the cause of the headache.

Dr Maddox returned carrying a plate of fresh steamed vegetables, mashed potato, and some kind of meat casserole in his hand. He stood by Data's side and examined him. Data squirmed in the bed like he had a fever.

Data's eyes were screwed shut, sweat coating his forehead.

Suddenly Data cared little for eating, only wanting the pain to stop.

'Perhaps food will have to wait,' Dr Maddox said. He addressed Lore. 'Tell the Enterprise of the situation and to beam the two of us into the sickbay for monitoring. He needs as little stimulation as possible and I don't think that will happen if you're around.'

'What? No!' Lore snapped. Lore snatched the plate of food from Dr Maddox. 'He's staying with me! I'll take care of him.'

Lore pressed the badge on his chest and explained the situation to the Enterprise. Data could not hear their conversation, his head was ringing with sounds and voices that did not exist in the room, voices that seemed familiar but he could not identify, his body screaming with agony and dripping with sweat.

The pain suddenly reached a peak and the room spun around him.

Data fainted.

* * *

><p>Data felt a hypospray in his neck. The pain trickled away and he became aware of other sensations.<p>

Data now felt like he was lying on something more comfortable – a bed, not a desk. The same blanket from before was over his body and he was grateful for it. He opened his eyes weakly, and saw a ginger haired doctor in blue uniform by his side, smiling. He realized he must be on the Enterprise, the starship Lore had mentioned..

'You feeling okay, Data?' the woman asked.

'Yes, thank you, Dr Crusher, I am much improved,' Data said, the words spilling out of his mouth before he could make sense of what he was saying. Data turned his head to Lore. Lore was holding the plate of food in front of him with a stupefied look on his face. The words continued to leave his mouth as if he had no control over the process, but he knew he was not being possessed. 'I must thank you also, brother, for saving me after I was destroyed from the phaser-blast from the Argo buggy. Without your sacrifice I believe I would not be alive today.'

The plate fell out of Lore's hands. It crashed against the floor.

'I thought you said he couldn't remember,' Dr Crusher began, but Lore's eyes were wide.

'That's because he couldn't.'

Lore's golden face suddenly split into an exuberant grin and he rushed to Data's side, squeezing Data's hand with enthusiasm.

'Data! I didn't think you would remember so quickly!' he said, barely able to contain his excitement. 'What else do you remember?'

Although the words had spilled out of his mouth unconsciously, Data realized that this could only be the beginning of his memory recall.

Data found himself intrigued with Lore's smile - it was joyful and genuine - and somehow Data knew he hadn't seen Lore so happy in an extremely long time. It was almost alien to him, something long unfamiliar, but he knew better than to think it was about to disappear.

Data smiled. 'I believe I was accurate in saying that it would be a rough ride, my dear brother.'

**END**

* * *

><p><em>AN: Longer chapter than usual but I think it's justified, given it's the final chapter. I hope you all realize that this story is a little over 100,000 words, though (I certainly have, wow!) The ending may have been a bit rushed with Riker and such, but to be frank I've been anxious to finish this story for awhile now but had been forcing myself to go more slowly for the sake of developing it and I'd HOPE (I seem to be wrong about this sometimes) that it was rushed to an acceptable level. I just wanted to get on with the Data thing and FINALLY give he and Lore a happy ending!  
><em>

_I originally planned to make a sequel to this story (after all, can't go wrong with Data exploring his newfound literal humanity) but I promised my boyfriend I would try to focus on writing my novel (original) - which explores some of the themes in this story, but expands on them. That doesn't exclude the next story from existing or other Star Trek fanfic (because I'm sure they'll exist in future) but it just means they'll probably be delayed. I made a Twitter account recently if people want to follow me, just PM me if you're interested (about the novel, anyway). Just know I don't post about my fanfiction on there generally._

_As always, interested to hear your thoughts. This is your final opportunity to give your praise, criticism, or both. _

_Oh yeah, forgot to mention in case people cared. My thesis was well received and I received my grade the other day - first class honours, wahoo! (That's the equivalent of an A or High Distinction so I am pleased my hard work paid off.)_

_Thank you for the heartfelt reviews, I hope you liked the story and where it went._


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